They Met in the Dark
by BathshebaRocks
Summary: England 1999; the Vampire revelation is a few months away, but one evil vampire is determined to stop it. He wasn't expecting to have a telepathic part-fairy on his trail, and Sookie wasn't expecting a mission which would bring her love as well as danger.
1. Chapter 1

_**London 1999 – a few months before the great vampire revelation.**_

My name is Sookie Stackhouse, and I'm a spy.

Okay, I agree that sounds rather melodramatic, and to tell the truth I don't spend a lot of time doing the things you might expect a spy to do. I've never shot anyone, or driven an Aston Martin round hairpin bends at ninety miles per hour. But I do work for MI5, which is officially the British security and intelligence service, so in my book I'm justified in taking that title.

It was the career I'd always wanted, back from when I was a little girl. My brother Jason and I would watch endless re-runs of James Bond movies on the TV. I used to think how unfair that the men got most of the action and the women usually ended up dead.

I know it's not very kind to want to shoot people. Maybe I've got too much testosterone, or maybe people just piss me off too often. As time went on women did get some action in the Bond movies, but they still ended up dead. I didn't let that put me off although, looking back now, maybe I should have taken it as a warning.

Jason and I lived with our Gran deep in the Forest of Dean. If you've never heard of it, I'm not surprised. It's the kind of backwater place that hardly anyone would visit unless they lived there. Off the beaten track doesn't start to describe it.

It was the perfect place to practice my spying skills though – endless ancient woodlands with only a few roads, criss-crossed instead by old cart tracks. We'd climb trees and watch the people passing by, some of them working but most just enjoying nature. We would see some interesting things, and I'd write them all down in a notebook in a secret code that I'd made up.

We lived in an old cottage, up an isolated track in the middle of the Forest, with only Grandma and Grandpa as neighbours. Grandpa had worked in the forest until he retired, and Dad did the same. The cottages came with their jobs.

The Forest is a strange place if you're not used to it, isolated in a kind of no-man's land between England and Wales. People from outside the area sneer, they say we're all inbred, but I think that's just because they don't understand or perhaps they're scared. Gran used to tell us that there was an old magic there. I'm not sure I fully believed her but sometimes I could sense strange powers that I could feel but didn't understand. Perhaps that's where my special ability came from, I really don't know.

The isolation of the forest was wonderful for me. We went to a little village school that had only had twenty other children. It's closed down now of course, no longer economically viable, but I loved it. There were only two teachers and it was easy to sit quietly in a corner and not be disturbed by the other children.

When I was seven we had to make a little book at school: '_What I want to be when I grow up'_.

"_I will be a spy_," I wrote in mine. "_I will live in London in tall block of flats. I will not get married and I will not have children._" Well I don't live in a block of flats – when I tell you more about myself the reason for that will become obvious – but apart from that it was a pretty accurate prediction.

My brother Jason's book was called '_I want to be an Astronaut_'. He drives a bus in Bristol now.

As a little girl, I had no idea that I was different from other people. It seemed normal to me that I could hear people's thoughts as well as the words they said out loud. I assumed they could hear mine as well, so I made sure that I only thought naughty or unkind things when Mum and Dad weren't around.

My life changed forever when I was eleven. I had to leave our tiny village school and go to the High School in Coleford, our nearest town. I was an early developer, and had to be fitted for my first bra in the summer holidays before I started there.

It was probably the worst year of my life. Grandpa had died of cancer, and Mum and Dad were killed in a car crash – the roads in the Forest are notorious and they fell victim to two boy racers trying to overtake on a blind bend.

Joining the high school in Coleford was unbearable. There were so many people all the time, and trying to shield myself from their thoughts was impossible. The subject of my developing breasts was an unending source of fascination to the boys in my class.

It's hard to concentrate in lessons when you're trying to block out the thoughts of five or six kids trying to imagine what you look like topless, and how they can get to snog you after school.

Jason was the complete opposite to me; he loved the move to a town. I'd worked out by then that he didn't have my 'ability'; to be honest he wasn't great at many things. He was handsome though, and the girls loved him. He was followed by a small crowd of admirers wherever he went.

It took a while for Gran to work out what was wrong with me. I faked a constant stream of ailments: headache, period pains (often twice a month if I was really desperate), nausea. Eventually she agreed to take me out of school and teach me herself.

I can't honestly say my home education was balanced. She loved English literature, especially the Romantic poets: Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth. Personally I was rather impressed by Lord Byron, but she thought him too racy. We studied some history and a little geography. Once a year someone from the local Council would come round to check up on us, but they didn't seem to care too much.

Best of all, Gran would show me the secrets of the Forest. She knew where to find the tastiest wild mushrooms, and herbs that could heal a fever. I had this fantasy that maybe she was a witch or a fairy with special powers. I wish I'd asked her then; it's too late now.

Gran died when I was twenty-three. By then I had a job as an assistant at the local library. I came home to find her slumped on the kitchen table. The doctor said it was a heart attack, and that she wouldn't have suffered. Jason had already moved to Bristol. He'd got a girl pregnant and they thought it would be easier to find somewhere to live and for him to get work.

They said I could come and stay with them, but I'd never liked his girlfriend, and I knew she didn't like me, so I guessed that they probably wanted a live in cleaner and babysitter. Dawn worked as a checkout girl in the big Asda supermarket and said she could get me a job if I wanted. Life behind a supermarket till wasn't exactly my chosen career.

I had to do something though. Now that Gran was dead I could no longer stay in the cottage, and my part-time job didn't pay enough to rent a place of my own. I was lucky that the landlords allowed me six months notice.

Gran always used to say 'if you don't ask, you don't get' so I decided to test out my childhood ambition. I wrote to MI5 and asked for an interview. I told them I had a very special talent that I was sure they'd be interested in. When I look back now, I'm amazed they even replied; but they did, and I was invited to London

The outfit I chose probably wasn't the most suitable. My friend Tara Thornton helped me select it from the dress shop her aunt owned. The skirt was a little short, but she said I had nice legs and I should show them off. The blouse was possibly a little too tight, and showed rather more cleavage than was professional.

Leaving the Forest was terrifying. I had to get the bus to Bristol then the train to Paddington, and I just wasn't used to being surrounded by so many people. I'd never been quite so grateful for a modern invention as for the MP3 player. I could tune into the music and it helped me keep my shields up.

Somehow I made it to the banks of the River Thames and stood for a long time outside the Headquarters building. The tall grey gates looked to me like the entrance to a prison. Perhaps this was all a huge mistake. Eventually I plucked up the courage to go in. People bustled past as the narrow heels of my shoes clattered across the tiled floor of the lobby. I would need to practice keeping my shields up if I was going to survive this environment. Everyone was worried about something: the meeting they were late for; the budget that was over-running; the agent they'd briefed to infiltrate an environmental group who seemed to have gone native. Anxious, angry thoughts bounced around the cavernous space.

I was shown into a small office, which was cluttered and messy. Papers were piled up on the table, and on top of every other surface. The man behind the desk looked unhappy and harassed. He forced a smile when I came in, but it never reached his eyes.

Rudely, I listened in to his thoughts. Apparently there was an equal opportunities drive in the organisation. They wanted more women, black people and people from working class backgrounds. I scored on two out of three. He hated the idea; he'd been in the service for over ten years and had only moved up a couple of grades. Naturally he blamed everyone else for this and expected things to get worse when lots of newcomers arrived who would all be unfairly favoured over him.

He didn't even look at me at first, but once I was sat in the chair he raised his head and looked me up and down, with the emphasis on down. That was the point when I realised that my skirt was definitely too short, and my blouse far too low cut.

"Yes, I am wearing a bra, and no, I won't go for a drink with you later," I snapped at him.

He swallowed hard and stared at me.

"And no, I'm not just assuming you're sexist because you're a man. Want to try something else?" He had really pissed me off with his attitude, and I didn't care if I made him uncomfortable.

"I don't understand," he stammered, uncertainly.

"I said in my letter of application that I had an unusual talent. I can read people's minds. I don't know how or why, I just know that ever since I was a little girl I've been able to listen in to what's going on in people's heads."

Most people, anyway. There were a few of our neighbours in the forest whose thoughts were very unclear to me, just random angry emotions, but I'd always put that down to the inbreeding.

'_If I report this to Sir Stephen, he'll think I've gone stark, staring bonkers and I'll never get another promotion_,' he was thinking.

"No he won't," I tried to reassure him, just let me see her and I'll explain everything.

I never did get to meet Sir Stephen, not then at least, but one of her deputies gave me a second interview and decided to take a chance, even though he couldn't quite understand how I could work out everything he was about to say.

I was assigned a controller when I joined the organisation. Julian was Oxford educated, aristocratic and terrifyingly intelligent. He was also black and gay, so despite all his advantages he was as out of place as I was in this pillar of the British establishment.

He quickly became my best friend. He even found me somewhere to live. I found the big city unbearable at first, all those thoughts assaulting me twenty-four hours a day. There was never a moment's peace. Through his connections, he found a little mews house in the ground of Buckingham Palace. It was what they called a 'grace and favour' property, but technically I was the Queen's employee, and Julian was a distant relative of the Duke of Edinburgh (on his father's side) so he pulled a few strings.

My only neighbours at night were the horses ridden by the Lifeguards. If you've ever seen a tourist photo of London, you will have seen the troops who ride them, guarding the Queen in their antiquated uniforms with silver breastplates and feather plume helmets. I don't know whether or not animals have clear thoughts, but if they do I can't understand them, so I had blissful nights of dream-free sleep.

I got to see Queen Elizabeth once, when she came to inspect the horses. I managed a clumsy curtsey before disappearing back to my rooms. I think she mistook me for a groom. "Such lovely horses, dear," was all she said.

My first few months were uneventful. I had to sit in on interviews with suspected terrorists, or with staff from foreign embassies who had strayed too far outside their official brief. I like to think I was doing some good by exonerating the innocent, and helping to find the guilty. I know that I prevented at least one major bomb attack. To tell the truth though, most of the time the job was deathly dull – not at all what I had expected when I wrote that little book back when I was seven. I'd wanted drama and excitement. If I was completely honest with myself, I'd probably hoped for romance.

No-one had ever warned me to be careful what you wish for.

_**The character of Sookie Stackhouse belongs to Charlaine Harris.**_

_**This story is dedicated to VicVega66 and FairyBlood who organised the IndieFic Contest – that was where I got the idea of an English Sookie with the same telepathic skill, but some different life choices. Also to Northman Maille, Crisi TM and AmaZen who pre-read an early short version of the story and gave feedback.**_

'_**They Met in the Dark' is the name of an obscure fifties spy movie, which I thought was appropriate to the story.**_

_**Chapters 1 – 6 were originally posted between 5**__**th**__** July and 6**__**th**__** August 2011, but have been reposted with some editing improvements, and a few tweaks to the time-line and plot.**_

_**14 September 2011**_


	2. Chapter 2

Anyone's life can be transformed in a heart-beat, usually when you least expect it. For me, everything changed one Monday morning in late September 1999. As soon as I arrived in Julian's office for my weekly briefing I could tell he was excited.

He had a new display on his wall, pictures of women, maybe ten or fifteen of them. Some were obviously passport photos, others formal poses perhaps for a CV or job application, some informal and casual. They were all young, and almost all blonde. It was a strange sensation, knowing that when the photographs had been taken each girl was full of life, looking to the future. Now I was quite certain that they were all dead, and Julian's first words confirmed it.

"There have been a series of murders; the Met are mystified and they've asked for our help."

I looked puzzled, I hadn't heard of any unsolved murders. Julian interpreted my expression: he may not be able to read minds, but his intuition was second to none. "They're trying to keep them under wraps so as not to start a moral panic. Most of these girls are foreign: bar workers, escorts and the like so they haven't been missed. What's odd is that they are found almost drained of blood, but with not a mark on them. They haven't been able to establish a cause of death."

"Not a modern day Jack the Ripper then," I gave a nervous laugh; that would be the last thing we needed. "Anyway, this should be a police matter, not MI5 territory, why are they letting us in on it?"

"They are not letting us in, they're letting you in. I know we've tried to keep your special talent under wraps but these things have a habit of leaking out. The PAs, the drivers, they all gossip."

I could feel my face go a delicate shade of pink, which I hoped he would blame on the office heating being too high for the unseasonably mild weather we were having. I'd tried my hardest to be discreet, but Amy in the secretarial office was such a sweetie. She'd been one of the few people who'd been kind to me when I first started. When she thought she was pregnant and wasn't sure who the father was, I just blurted how sorry I was and how I was sure everything would be alright. That left her very confused as she hadn't actually said a word: the strength of her emotion had penetrated the mental shields I was learning to keep up.

I had to explain myself somehow, and I decided to confide in her. She promised to keep my 'ability' secret, but she was dating Joe, one of the drivers, and I guess she thought that telling him wouldn't count.

I was sorry she'd chosen him. The other possible father, Damon from accounts, was so much nicer. He had better prospects of course, but also he wasn't so inflexible in his opinions. Joe, to put it bluntly, was a bigot. He hated gays, thought immigrants were stealing all the jobs, and deep down believed that women should stay at home and make babies. Still it was none of my business and, as it turned out, she wasn't pregnant after all.

Julian cleared his throat loudly to get my attention. He indicated a map pinned up on his notice-board, which was marked out with pins and ribbons. "These are the places where the girls worked," he indicated a number of blue pins, "and these are where they were found dead." The red pins were clustered around an area of North London. Looking more closely I could see that Highgate cemetery was in the middle.

"It seems an unlikely place for a killer to live." Maybe I was being unfair, but Highgate is one of London's most affluent areas popular with actors and intellectuals as well as bankers and rich foreigners. Most of the residents lived in private roads or large gated mansions.

"You'd think so, but Highgate Cemetery is an odd place. There were rumours, not so long ago, of strange creatures living there. Have you ever heard of the Highgate vampires?"

I shook my head. I liked "Buffy" as much as the next girl and I'd read a few Anne Rice books, but I wasn't so gullible as to think that vampires really existed amongst us. How could they, without anyone realising.

"It was a media sensation back in the early 70's." Julian continued, "Two men claimed to have discovered a vampire living in Highgate Cemetery. There was never any proof though and most people wrote them off as deluded self-publicists. I've always been convinced it was wishful thinking; people who wanted more excitement in their lives."

"So what exactly are we meant to do?" I still had difficulty working out my role in all this.

"The area where all the girls were last seen alive is all within a half-mile radius of Camden Tube Station. The plan is for you and me to tour the pubs and clubs and look out for anyone who seems out of place. You'll need to listen in to people and try to identify any suspicious thoughts."

I shook my head; it seemed such a long shot. I might not get out much, but even I knew that Camden was one of London's busiest nightspots, with thousands of people out on the streets. Needle in a haystack didn't even begin to describe what we would be looking for. It would be hard work as well. In normal circumstances I concentrated on keeping my shields up, except in one to one situations where my skills were needed. Interviews and interrogations were fine, but allowing the thoughts of a thousand people to bombard my head all at once would be the hardest thing I'd ever had to do.

"I haven't got anything to wear for a night out." I'd brought two business suits with me to London, a couple of pairs of jeans, sweat pants and T-shirts – that was the extent of my wardrobe.

"That has to be the most pathetic excuse I've heard in a long time." Julian rolled his eyes in mock disgust, then gave me a big grin. "You and I had better go shopping then."

xOx-xOx

He picked me up in a taxi a few nights later for the start of our mission. It was an extravagance as we could just as easily have taken the bus. I never travelled on the Underground. The confined space amplified people's thoughts to the level where the sound was physically painful, and besides I knew how many terrorist attacks had been foiled. It was only a matter of time before one succeeded.

I manoeuvred myself into the seat, tugging at the ultra-short skirt Julian had selected for me. Matched with a tummy-skimming crop top I felt seriously under-dressed. At least he'd allowed me to wear black tights. He was a great personal shopper, but I couldn't help feeling that I had been set up as some kind of bait.

We started our tour of the area at the Mother Red Cap, but Julian quickly decided that it was too down-market. Tiny mini-skirts, or 'fanny pelmets' as Julian christened them, matched with barely-there bra tops seemed to be the order of the day. He had a few choice words about the cheap gold hoop earrings that all the girls were sporting.

We moved onto the Hawley Arms. I could barely see through the fug of smoke as we walked in. That wasn't all from cigarettes either. Despite my sheltered upbringing, I could recognise the distinctive sweet smell of marijuana, or spliff, as I should learn to call it if I wanted to be cool. The clientele here was predominantly male. Faded jeans matched with leather jackets seemed to be the fashion order of the day.

I got the feeling Julian fancied the rough look, as he made eye contact with one or two of them. Mind you he was looking gorgeous himself. His fashionably distressed jeans hugged in all the right places, and a tight lycra T-shirt emphasised the chest and stomach which he only achieved by putting in hours each week at the gym. Not for the first time, I supressed my disappointment at his sexuality. He gave an artificial sigh as I tugged at his arm to get his attention.

"I can't see any likely candidates here," I said, trying not to raise my voice too much.

"Let's try Dingwalls," Julian yelled above the din. The club was just across the road and even I knew that it was currently one of the trendiest venues in town. Fatboy Slim was playing a DJ set tonight, but luckily Julian had guest passes to get us in. We forced our way through the crowd, weaving in and out so I could scan their thoughts for anything out of the ordinary. It took a while to get the hang of it, but I found that I could just skim people's minds, never going too deep but listening out for any clue that might give them away. Sure enough I did find it, but not in the way I had expected.

Standing at the bar waiting to be served, we both spotted the guy at the same time. That wasn't a surprise; he was gorgeous. Although he was only average height, he had dark curly hair, brown eyes, and a body that just oozed sex appeal. He'd possibly overdone the 'Goth' look, though. His skin was deathly white, emphasised by the red rings inside his eyes. His style was fashionably old-fashioned, a loose white linen shirt and tight black trousers which fitted in all the right places. There was something about him that held my attention. Unlike everyone else in the place he wasn't watching the figure on stage; instead, rather like us, he seemed to be scanning the crowd, looking for someone.

On impulse I decided to get a bit closer and check him out. I was barely three yards from him when I glanced round to see Julian watching me with a look of concern. I was normally good at hiding my feelings – I'd had years of practice after all – but this time what I heard was so unexpected that the surprise must have shown on my face.

To be more accurate, it was what I didn't hear. I moved in a little closer, wondering if he was just a very weak broadcaster. I could feel his presence very clearly, but not a sound emitted from his head.

He clocked me looking at him. I tried to look away but I wasn't quick enough; for one brief moment our eyes met. I started to move back towards the bar where Julian was waiting for me, but I'd barely taken a step when I felt a tight grip on my arm. With a movement faster than I could take in, we were outside, standing in the shadow of one of the abandoned railway arches.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I don't normally swear but I was furious, "I'm not on my own you know."

"You are now," he said, in a dark voice.

I'd taken my jacket off in the heat of the club. Now we were outside I was shivering and I noticed that his hands were really cold. It didn't seem to bother him though, even though he was only wearing a thin shirt.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you and your friend? You are not here for the music. What is it you are looking for?"

"Julian and I are just on a night out. I'm new to London and he said he'd show me the sights." I put on my most confident voice and plastered a fake smile across my face.

The stranger smiled back but without any warmth. "You're lying," he said, "I can tell you are looking for someone, now tell me who or I'll rip your head off."

I was tempted to laugh. He was a skinny guy who didn't look strong enough to break my nails. Something about his tone stopped me though. I'd already met one or two psychopaths in the course of my new career and something about him reminded me of them.

His grip on my arm tightened, I couldn't believe that anyone could squeeze quite that hard. I was going to have bruises for a week. He took hold of my other arm with equal force and pulled my face close to his.

When you're in a clench with a bad guy you expect the stench of foul breath, but I couldn't smell anything, in fact I wasn't sure he was actually breathing. I watched carefully as he continued to examine my face, as if he thought my expression would somehow reveal my thoughts. His chest was perfectly still, while my heart was beating so fast I felt sure it could be seen through the skimpy fabric of my top.

An unexpected image of my Gran popped into my mind, as I thought of something she used to say:

'_There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy_.'

It was one of her favourite Shakespearean quotes. Whenever she used it I got the feeling that she wanted to tell me something but wasn't sure how to start. Perhaps she hoped it would give me a clue to some secret knowledge. She certainly would have used it if she had been in my situation now. What was this guy?

His unblinking stare unnerved me. I had the impression that he was trying to communicate with me, or maybe he could read my mind, even though I couldn't read his.

Our basic training had covered counter-interrogation techniques, but I confess I hadn't paid that much attention. I'd always figured that being able to read the mind of my interrogator would give me the upper hand. Now I had to weigh up my options, all the while feeling completely powerless.

Julian would surely come out looking for me soon, but I didn't want to get him drawn into a fight. He worked out at the gym, and talked tough, but I knew that when it came to the crunch he was basically a wimp who would run a mile from violence. His upbringing had been too sheltered to need to learn how to use his fists.

Luckily for me, I'd also signed up for the advanced self-defence module on basic training. I wasn't as fast-moving as my assailant, but I knew that a hard blow of the knee right between the legs usually did the trick. I'd never done it in anger before but the combination of terror and fury mingled together to give me an energy I hadn't ever experienced. The shock blow was enough to loosen his grip on my arms so I could twist out of his hands.

I ran back into the club as fast as I could; collapsing into Julian's surprised embrace.

"Out of here, now," I ordered. He didn't hesitate. Taking my hand we ran out into the street and, pushing a surprised couple out of the way, jumped into a taxi.

"What on earth is going on, who was that?" I noticed that Julian checked that the red light which indicated that the driver could hear our conversation was out before he spoke.

"I have no idea, but…." I hesitated; fearful he would laugh at what I had to tell him. "You'll think I'm crazy, but I really don't think he was human."

"Why not?" Julian didn't sound as surprised as I expected.

"There was nothing going on in his head. Well I mean, I'm sure there was but I couldn't hear it and that's never happened to me before."

"Any other clues?" he continued in the same matter of fact tone.

"You're going to think I'm crazy now, but I couldn't detect any heartbeat. His skin was as a cold as a dead man, and I'm not even sure he was breathing. Could he be some kind of zombie?"

"I don't think he was a zombie," Julian said, sounding mysterious now. "When you get home, lock the door and don't open it to anyone, whatever they say. Make sure all your windows are closed tight too. You might want to consider making a crucifix, and putting some garlic around your neck."

I laughed out loud; how ridiculously melodramatic. "We're not in a Hammer horror movie!"

Julian's expression didn't change. "This is no joke, Sookie. Please do as I ask you."

Despite my scepticism, I followed his instructions to the letter. I found an old crucifix in the small box of jewellery that my gran had left me and tied some garlic cloves together with string. I would smell disgusting in the morning, but if it meant I woke up still alive I wasn't going to complain.

I slept fitfully. Images of my assailant flickered through my mind. At one point I was convinced I saw his face at my window but that must have been a trick of the light, or just my fevered imagination. Despite the late night and lack of proper sleep I woke early. It was still dark outside, and the roar of the London rush hour had barely started. I sent Julian a text message asking him to meet me in the office at 7.30am. He had a longer journey to work than me, and wasn't a natural early riser but I needed to talk to him and I wasn't able to wait.

"You thought he was a vampire, didn't you?" I gabbled, rushing him before he'd even had time to take his coat off.

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Julian had adopted his public school, stiff upper lip personality, the one which always came into play when he had to meet with senior officers of the organisation. It was like a disguise he wore, and that's how I knew he wasn't telling me what he really thought.

"You do think he could be behind the murders though?"

"Yes, that's a distinct possibility, I'd say. He's in the right place, at the right time, and he clearly has something to hide."

We stood looking at each other; both knowing what was coming next but neither wanting to be the one to say the words. Eventually I jumped in and broke the silence.

"We're going to have to go back after him, aren't we?"

Julian still couldn't bring himself to speak, he just nodded. I broke my normal rule and listened in to his thoughts. The service wanted to use me as bait. The creature, whatever he was, already had me in his sights, making it the obvious course of action.

"It's alright; you don't have to worry about me. This is the job I trained for, remember. It's what I want to do. Besides I'll have back-up won't I?" Despite my bravado, I couldn't supress my true feelings and I heard my voice wobble as I finished the sentence.

"Of course," Julian reassured me, "I'll make sure I get the best agents assigned to the project."

"He's very fast though," I'd never known anyone who could move with such speed, or at least no human. "Strong as well," I winced as I remembered the feel of his grip on my arms.

"I won't lie to you Sookie, I think it's going to be risky. You don't have to go through with it if you don't want to. I'll make sure there are no repercussions within the agency."

It was sweet of him, but I didn't sign up for this just to chicken out when things got tough. When I looked back later I realised how naïve I'd been. Even after six months in the job I hadn't fully come to terms with just how dangerous and evil the world could be.


	3. Chapter 3

I knew from the moment I stepped through the doors of the club the next night that things wouldn't go according to plan. The room was a seething mass of people and noise; throbbing bass and shouted conversations. The sweat rose up from their bodies, hit the low ceiling and dripped back down again making the artfully arranged hairstyles damp and limp. The tops of people's heads were just about all that could be seen in the throng.

I considered calling the whole thing off, but it had been difficult enough for Julian to arrange the back-up team at such short notice. I couldn't believe how many forms and layers of bureaucracy were needed just for us to get cover from four guys in black suits and dark glasses – maybe it was their concealed weapons that made all the difference.

I'd needed permission too for the hidden wires taped to my chest, and the tracking device which had been carefully stitched into my bra.

We'd agreed that the best course of action would be to go back to the club where we'd seen the stranger the previous night. If Julian was right, he would be as interested in me as we were in him and would seek me out. What we hadn't taken into account was that tonight Dingwalls was hosting a 'secret' Robbie Williams gig, and judging by the crowd it was pretty much an open secret. It was full to capacity and then some.

We had barely been inside five minutes when I saw him. Everyone else seemed to fade into an indistinct mass, merging into one another so that he alone stood out clearly amongst them. He was wearing black tonight, a loose open necked shirt which only accentuated his deathly pale skin. He must never see the sun to be so completely lacking in colour. He was right in the middle of the crowd, standing completely still as people around him swayed in time to the music.

It wasn't just his astounding good looks which made him stand out. There was a strange quality to his skin: he seemed to glow. I wondered that no-one else noticed it, but they didn't seem to. I could tell that he'd seen me through the crowd of people; I couldn't hide from that piercing gaze of his. Then, even as I watched, he disappeared from view.

I looked across at Julian who was covering the room from the VIP area but he gave a slight shake of his head to indicate that he had lost the stranger too.

It didn't take long to discover where he had gone. No sooner had I turned back to survey the scene again, than I felt a familiar tight, cold grip on my arm.

Without a word he whisked me through the crowd. After last night I should have been ready for him but, prepared or not, he was just too quick for me. Although the crush was overwhelming, the people seemed to melt away, our movement was so fast. Out on the terrace overlooking the canal he pinned me against the railings, making it impossible for me to move. To a casual observer we would have looked like a couple in the throes of a passionate embrace. He slipped a hand between us as if to stroke my breast, then dipped his fingers down into my cleavage.

I began to protest but before I could utter a word he had ripped the black wires that ran down my bra-strap to a transmitter taped to my stomach.

"What unusual accessories for a night on the town." His voice was dark and heavy with meaning. My heart began to beat faster, wondering if I'd found the missing needle in the haystack– the murderer himself.

"I find myself wondering what your true purpose is. I presume you came here tonight to seek me out?"

If he'd been an ordinary guy I would have slapped him down for his arrogance, but he was not, and this was no ordinary situation. I tried to glance around without being obvious; wondering if any of the crack team of backup I was meant to have had tracked me down yet.

Maybe it was the benefit of the Service training, or more likely the way Gran had brought me up, but it was easy to accept the idea that my assailant wasn't fully human. I'd worked out that he was very strong and very fast. That, combined with the fact that I couldn't hear his thoughts, put me at a real disadvantage.

So when he asked again what I was doing, I decided there was no point in lying to him. If he was the murderer he would kill me whatever I said, and the truth was more likely to keep him engaged while Julian and the back-up team could get to me.

"I work for the Government. There is an investigation taking place into..events…in this area. My job is to try and find out more, see if anyone is giving anything away."

"A woman….working…alone at night," he interrupted, sounding as if the very idea was quite foreign to him.

I was tempted to say that I wasn't alone, but decided against it.

"And these events you speak of?"

I hesitated again, wishing that the old saying that the eyes were windows to the soul was true. He wasn't much taller than me, so I could make eye contact without difficulty, despite the tight grip in which he held me. From his appearance I would guess he was mid to late twenties, possibly older. Close up he was undeniably handsome but with a drawn, almost haggard look, as if he was suffering from some kind of wasting illness. Whatever his age, his eyes had the appearance of one who had seen far too much. They were serious, weary, but strangely I didn't find them threatening.

How I longed for some indication that I could trust my own judgement.

"Women have been disappearing, mainly from round this area. We think there is a pattern, they aren't random events."

"Disappearing and being found dead?" He made it sound like a question even though I was sure he knew the answer.

I moved my head just enough to nod in agreement.

"Why have you been chosen to do this?" He looked me up and down with a dubious expression.

I could see his point. I'm barely five foot five, look younger than my twenty-five years, and of course being blonde, everyone assumes I'm an airhead.

"Because I'm a woman," _ouch,_ that sounded too sarcastic so I softened my tone as I continued, "I'm the right age and most of the girls who have disappeared have been blonde. I guess you'd say I'm the bait."

He gave a slight shake of his head. "You humans, you really have no idea what you are meddling with."

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me?" I was feeling a little bolder. Surely if he was the murderer he would have made a move by now.

"Perhaps I could, but not in this place and not at this time."

"When and where then?" I asked, suddenly quite reckless.

He dangled the loose wire he had pulled from my chest right in front of my face. "When I think I can trust you," his voice was as icy cold as his skin.

We stood in silence for what seemed like minutes, but was surely only seconds, letting his challenge hang in the air.

I felt a prickling sensation running up my back. From amongst the clamour of voices: drunken, shouting, swearing, I picked out the sober, precise thoughts of my back-up team. They were focussing on my assailant with instructions to seize him, but at least one was thinking that he would shoot to kill if the suspect resisted.

"You need to get out of here. I'm not alone." I whispered close to his ear.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face then he loosened his grip on me and, with a whoosh of cold air, disappeared into the night. Back-up reached me at almost exactly the same time. A few seconds earlier and they would have had him. I heard the curses of anger and frustration play out in their minds.

Julian wasn't far behind, fussing as usual. "What were you playing at Sookie, going off like that? You could have been killed."

"Thanks for pointing out the bleedin' obvious," I snapped back, irritation provoking the most unladylike language. "I didn't exactly have a choice."

He had the grace to look a little guilty and shrugged an apology, then took off his leather jacket to wrap around my shoulders. I was glad of the warmth. Now that the adrenaline was subsiding I could really feel the cold.

"So, you wanna' see Robbie?" he joked. "I've got an _Access All Areas_ pass." There were no limits to his connections it appeared.

What I really wanted was a gin and tonic – a large one.

Julian made no reference to the drama which had just taken place as we fought our way through to the tiny VIP area. Miraculously there were two seats free. I'd chosen to wear spike-heeled patent leather boots to fit in with the fashionable crowd and my feet were killing me. The first set had finished and it was just about possible to hold a conversation. Even so, Julian leant in very close to whisper in my ear. He wasn't smiling any more.

"Why did you do it Sookie?"

"Do what?" I composed my features into the most innocent expression I could manage.

"Warn him… let him escape."

I opened my mouth to protest but Julian squeezed my knee to silence me.

"Don't lie, he may have pulled the wire off you, but the mic was still working. I heard every word."

I winced but said nothing. He waited for a few moments, expecting me to jump in and fill the silence as most people would. My training was better than that though.

"I'm going to have to take you off the case. I'm sorry, but you're compromised now. Honestly Sookie, I know he was a handsome guy but I can't believe you'd risk everything just for that. Or is it that he was packing more than you expected – he had you in a pretty tight clinch." His tone was uncharacteristically bitter, but he had signed off on the operation and he was the one who was going to have to explain why things hadn't gone according to plan.

"I'm sorry, Julian. I just…I don't know…I just don't think he's the murderer. They were going to shoot to kill you know."

He looked shocked at that revelation. Obviously not all of the orders had been shared with him.

"Well, perhaps I can cover for you, but I'm still going to have to take you off the case. We'll give it back to the Met." He was lying about that – it would go to another team, one I'd never heard of.

I shrugged. There was no point in arguing.

xOx-xOx

I had another sleepless night, thinking over what I had done. Why had I cared about what happened to the stranger? I tried to put it down to curiosity, or maybe to compassion. Julian would probably have said that I didn't want my brand new outfit covered in blood.

There was a text from Julian in the morning, suggesting I took a few days recovery leave. I was furious. Recovery leave was a sure sign to everyone that you'd fouled up and needed time to regroup and avoid the inevitable backlash.

He was my boss, so I had no choice. I spent a few hours doing the chores I'd been putting off whilst working those late nights, but my little house couldn't take too much cleaning and I didn't have too many clothes to wash and iron. I wandered down to the stables. Talking to the horses didn't make a lot of sense, but it calmed me, and sometimes I could swear they understood every word I was saying.

By early afternoon I was getting restless. I flicked through a two-week old copy of _Time Out_ looking for ideas of somewhere to visit. Then, out of nowhere, Highgate Cemetery popped into my head. Why not, I'd read about it and never been there. I checked the closing time: five pm. I could easily make it there and have a couple of hours to look around before sundown.

It was a slow journey, but after my frenzied morning of activity that gave me time to think. Perhaps I was too soft-hearted for this job. I had no proof that our suspect wasn't a mass murder, nothing except my own gut instinct. The same gut instinct that had selected Hampstead as my destination, out of all the attractions which the city had to offer.

Traffic was slow, and with two buses to catch, the sun was already low in the sky as I paid the entry fee.

"Don't wander too far off the beaten track dear, we'll be closing in an hour. You don't want to get locked in for the night," Penelope, whose badge proclaimed her a 'friend of the cemetery', joked, although I could tell that her real fear was that she would have to come looking for me. With all the Police attention recently, she was sure something untoward was going on.

"Don't worry," I reassured her, "I've got my mobile phone. I can call for help if I get lost." I sounded more confident than I felt. I'd only ever used a land-line before moving to London and still found using my little Nokia mobile quite strange.

I took the little map she gave me and set off in search of the cemetery's most famous residents. First on my list was of course Karl Marx. Had he chosen his own final resting place, I wondered. He was surrounded by the huge mausoleums where generations of some of London's richest families were interred. I just hoped they didn't have to be neighbourly in the after-life; there would be some terrible arguments.

I wandered deeper into the more neglected parts of the cemetery, where the trees were overgrown with ivy and the graves neglected. Tombstones lay broken on the ground, their inscriptions obscured by lichen and moss. I thought of my Gran and felt guilty. I should go back home and tend to her grave.

Everywhere there were signs of Police activity. Small areas were cordoned off with the distinctive blue and white striped tape: Police, no entry. Undergrowth had been trampled down with the weight of size 10 boots.

Despite the best efforts of the training college, map reading is not one of my strong points. I tried to orientate myself and head back in the direction of the main gate. Then, unexpectedly, I found myself by the grave of Lizzie Siddal. Gran had told me the story of how her husband, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, buried a volume of his poetry with her, then later had her body exhumed so he could retrieve and publish it. When they opened the grave her long red hair had continued to grow and filled the coffin. Someone had been tending to it, there were fresh flowers. Some lover of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood dedicated to keeping her memory alive, no doubt?

I'd wasted precious time and left myself only five minutes to get back to the gate. Naturally I didn't make it. Still, there was no need to panic, it was a good two hours until sundown and I could call Julian on my mobile phone. Trouble was there was no answer. I managed to work out how to send him a text message, then found myself a seat and sat down to wait.

I checked my phone every few minutes but still no reply. I thought about calling the Police, but if I did that, word of what had happened to me would be certain to get back to HQ. Everyone knew that the Met leaked like a sieve when it came to gossip; and certain people would love anything that made MI5 look bad. The last thing I needed was a second black mark against me.

Julian had given me his home number, just in case of emergencies, but there was no answer there either. I left a message on his ansaphone. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw something move. Probably a fox, London was infested with them. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

Just for something to do, I started to mark each of the sites where there was evidence of Police activity onto the cemetery map. It was the obvious thing to do, see if there was a pattern. The sun had completely disappeared now, and I relied on the weak light from the wrought iron Victorian street lights on the road outside.

The locations I had found weren't random, they weren't an exact a circle, more like a five cornered pentangle. At their centre, in a spot not far away from where I was sitting, stood a huge family mausoleum built in the gothic style of the great medieval cathedrals. I got up to have a closer look. Not too close mind, I'm not easily scared, but the setting was eerie and I couldn't shake off the sensation that I was being watched. I cast around mentally, but there was no-one in range.

There was something out there though. The night was still and warm for the time of year, but I could hear the trees rustling and felt a sudden cool breeze through my hair. As I stood wondering what to do next, I heard his voice. It was instantly recognisable; cool and dark. I focussed on my breathing, willing myself not to show fear.

"How kind of you to pay me a visit," his tone was sarcastic and dangerous, making me shiver despite my best efforts.

"I came to see the Cemetery, but I really need to get home, I have friends waiting who will be worried about me." The words sounded feeble even as I spoke them; hardly likely to be a deterrent to a determined killer.

"I think not, unless you count your horses as friends." He smiled derisively.

I gave a resigned shrug, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable he was making me feel.

"There is someone who knows where I am. If any harm should come to me, he'll have this place torn apart." I could only hope that he would believe me.

"Please do not be so concerned. You think perhaps I am the murderer you are seeking, but I can assure you that is not the case. However I do know the identity of the person responsible." He had a strange way of talking, as if he had stepped out of one of the Victorian novels Gran and I used to love.

"I seek him myself," he continued, "and I wonder if you are the one I need to help me in my search. Come." His gaze was piercing, hypnotic; unsettling and compulsive all at the same time. I considered turning and running away, it was what any sensible person would have done. There was no easy way out of the cemetery though. If I screamed no-one would hear me, and with his speed he could catch me in an instant. So when he set off in the direction of the Gothic Mausoleum, I found myself following him.

Extracting a key from his pocket, he unlocked the rusting metal gate which creaked menacingly as he opened it. My heart started to thump all over again. He opened the inner door revealing a room as big as the living room of my small mews home. Naturally I expected it to be gloomy and dank, with perhaps a skeleton for added effect. I wasn't prepared to find the exact opposite. True, there were two or three coffins sitting in small alcoves in the walls, but the centre of the room was furnished as opulently as a stately home. Two red velvet _chaise longue_ sat on either side, with a richly patterned oriental rug in the centre, all illuminated by the flickering light of oil lamps. The effect was pure Victorian gothic, just like the occupant.

"Please, take a seat," he said politely, "I am sorry I have no refreshment to offer you, I wasn't expecting human guests."

I didn't bother with any clichéd questions, like 'who are you.' In my experience, people will always tell you if you wait long enough. In his case I didn't have to wait. As soon as we were both seated, he began his explanation.

"My name is John; that is all you need to know for now. As for my nature; I am one of the creatures which you humans refer to as vampire." It sounds melodramatic written down, but that was the effect of his old-fashioned way of speaking. In reality he made it sound perfectly normal

"Are there others like you?" I thought I should know what I was dealing with.

"Oh, yes, many thousands, in every country of the world. We grow in number and in strength. But tell me about yourself."

I ignored his question, wanting an answer to the thing that was really bugging me. "I don't understand, you're telling me there are thousands of vampire out there, but no-one has ever noticed. How could that happen?"

"You cannot honestly expect me to divulge our secrets to a complete stranger, especially a stranger who refuses even to introduce herself properly." A flicker of amusement crossed his face.

"Okay, my name is Sookie Stackhouse," I couldn't see any point in lying to him. I work for MI5, the secret service, but today I really am just here as a tourist."

He gave me a sceptical look. Maybe it was my accent, which still retained its country burr. That, along with my blonde hair, and generous breasts, often led people to conclude that I was stupid.

"But you have been investigating these murders. I have seen your Police force, blundering around, and now I ask myself why would the secret service be interested?"

It was a good question, one I'd asked myself, as it was way out of our normal territory. I admitted as much to him.

He sat in silence for a while, his face expressionless. Finally he spoke, "It is possible we have a mutual interest, and could perhaps assist each other, but I need to know that I can trust you."

He'd got up from his seat and moved to stand behind me. He lowered his head until it was barely an inch away from my neck. I tensed up, sure he was going to bite me, but although his lips brushed against my skin, he didn't follow through. Instead he seemed to be inhaling my scent.

"You are not fully human," he stated, sounding surprised.

That was nothing compared to my reaction. I think my mouth must have dropped open, but no words came out.

"There is something about your blood," he continued. "I can sense it but I cannot quite explain it. Perhaps if you would allow me a taste?"

"No!" I jumped up, as if that would protect me.

"Please, don't be so alarmed. You should not believe the myths about us. Vampires do not need to kill. Some choose to do so, but it is perfectly possible to feed without causing any lasting harm. That has been essential to keeping our existence a secret."

He did have a point, but I wasn't too keen about providing him with light refreshment. He smiled at the expression on my face.

"No matter; some other time perhaps. For now here is what I want you to do: you will return to your home, you will tell no-one about me, but tomorrow night you will meet me at the cemetery gates at seven."

Every instinct, and all of my training, screamed out against the idea. Who in their right mind would agree to meet a man they barely knew in a cemetery after dark, let alone a man who claimed to be a vampire. But at that moment, it seemed like the best chance I had of getting out of there alive.

Scared as I was, there was something about him that made me curious. If I'm completely honest with myself, I can't deny that maybe if he had looked less like Johnny Depp, and more like Max Schreck I might have felt differently.

"I have to tell someone, my boss Julian." Sharing the knowledge of this encounter would give me at least a thin layer of protection.

"This Julian, can he be trusted to keep a secret?"

I nodded, maybe a little too quickly, but he seemed to accept my assurance.

"In that case, you may tell him, but no-one else. If I find that either of you have spoken of me to any other living creature I will kill you both." The cold intensity of his voice made it clear that he would follow through on his threat.

Then, unexpectedly, his expression softened. "Until tomorrow night," he whispered, brushing his cool lips across my cheek. Something about that touch made me shiver all over, and not with cold.

**A/N As I've set this story in 1999 I have to try to remember what was happening then. I know it was the year I got my first mobile (cell) phone so the idea that Sookie would only just have one is realistic. I try to fact check as much as possible, but if any errors slip in please feel free to point them out.**

**In case you didn't recognise the name Max Schreck starred in the classic 1922 German silent vampire film 'Nosferatu' – one of the creepiest and ugliest vamps of all time. It was remade in 1979 by Werner Herzog starring the equally aesthetically challenged Klaus Kinski**


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of someone hammering urgently at my front door woke me late the next morning. I struggled into a dressing gown, ran a brush through my hair and hurried down stairs. It was Julian.

"Sookie, I've been worried sick!"

"Not worried enough to come looking for me yesterday though," I snorted, sulkily.

He looked shamefaced, and I could swear there was just a hint of a blush under his dark skin. Rudely, I let my shields down and got an all-too-clear image of a tall skinny white guy, covered in tattoos and with piercings in every part of his body that you could see, and no doubt in quite a few places that you couldn't.

"I'm sorry…" he began, then realised what I was doing and glared at me. "Can't a chap have any privacy," he adopted an exaggerated upper class accent, knowing how much that would wind me up.

It was my turn to apologise, but I couldn't quite disguise my shock. "I can't believe you went back and picked up that guy, he was…" I searched for the right word but failed, "well he didn't seem very clean."

Julian raised an eyebrow, "The perfect excuse to shower together," he smirked, deliberately broadcasting a powerful image of naked flesh, black on white, both dripping shower gel.

"Too much information, Julian," I shook my head despairingly. I'm really not a prude but there were times when his sex life was just too explicit for my delicate sensibilities.

"Anyway, how are you? You sounded terrified in the messages you left me, but you seem to have escaped unscathed." As he spoke, he lifted my hair away from my neck to inspect for bruises.

"Of course," I replied, hurriedly. "Why shouldn't I be? I just lost track of time and missed the closing of the gates, but a security guard came round and let me out."

"Really?" He looked suspicious.

"Yes, really," I insisted.

"So why do I think you're not telling the truth?" He narrowed his eyes and studied me intently.

"I have no idea," I shrugged, trying to look casual.

I offered him a coffee, but he refused, and instead tried a different tack to get me to open up: "It's lovely outside; let's go for a walk."

I had access to the lower part of the Palace gardens, not close enough to see anything of the house or the family, but still a wonderfully peaceful retreat right in the heart of the city. I nipped upstairs to pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

I linked my arm through Julian's as we strolled through the old kitchen garden. We were hidden from view by the red-brick walls, the apple trees splayed out against them already heavy with red and green fruits. It was a perfect autumn day; fully living up to its reputation as the "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness".

"What possessed you to go to Highgate, Sookie? I hope you weren't planning a little freelance investigating."

"No I was not," I snapped back defiantly. "I needed some fresh air, space, greenery, and anyway it was broad daylight when I got there; you've already said the disappearances only happen at night."

"So did you discover anything interesting, or do you expect me to believe you really only went to visit Herr Marx?"

"You can believe what you like; I'm on recovery leave remember." As soon as I'd said it, I felt guilty for being so snippy with him. "There was plenty of evidence of Police activity, but I didn't find any clues."

"No sign of any vampires then?" his tone was light, but he glanced around nervously, as if there were a chance that the trees or the flower beds could be bugged.

"What do you think?" I tried to sound dismissive.

I'm a good liar – I've had years of practice in concealing my true feelings, after all. Even so I felt guilty about lying to him. We walked on in silence for a while; Julian was tense, I could feel it from his body language and the occasional sideways glance he gave me.

"Okay, if you must know I did see a vampire – or at least that guy from the club who claims to be one." He would find out sooner or later, so what was the point of hiding it, "I didn't go looking for him though, honestly." I watched him carefully to judge his reaction.

He snorted derisively. "Do you really expect me to believe that? You've been complaining for months that the job isn't living up to your expectations."

"I know I've complained about being bored, but that doesn't mean I'm want to get myself killed. There's no way I would deliberately go after a killer like that, only…." I hesitated, wondering whether I should admit my doubts. Julian looked at me encouragingly so I continued, "only, the thing is, I really don't think he is the murderer. I don't know why but he says it's not him and I believe him."

We walked on while Julian considered what I'd said. While he was considering whether to trust my judgement, I was wondering why he was so certain that I had met a vampire, so I asked him.

"I told you about the legend of the Highgate Vampires," he explained, " well it was investigated at the time and the service discovered that it was true. There were six or seven vampires living in the old mausoleums. Luckily for them, the two men who claimed to have found them were lying, they never really found a trace. The Service has kept tabs on them ever since, tracking their movements."

Well thanks for warning me, I thought. That was how the Service worked: 'need to know' was the motto, you just had to get used to it.

"Why bother tracking them, if they're dangerous, why not just go in with stakes and pitchforks and get rid of them?" It wasn't like the British government to show that kind of sensitivity.

According to Julian, the powers that be wanted to know more. Were these the only vampires in the city, or indeed in the whole country? Were they content to remain underground, or did they pose a threat to the human community? I could see his point, certainly if it had been up to me those are the things I would have wanted to know. What I couldn't understand was why it was taking so long to answer these questions – the Highgate vampire mystery had been big news nearly forty years ago.

"Do you think we haven't tried to find out?" he explained, "some of our best agents have been sent in, male and female. Most of them have come out alive, but just blank; none of them could report anything of their experiences."

Something clicked at that point. I knew Julian well enough to know that a plan was forming in his mind, and that it was going to involve me.

"So you're thinking that maybe I could do better?"

"I don't know if you can or not, but this vampire is interested in you and that's a start. I know you said you couldn't hear his thoughts, but maybe you'll find some other way to discover what's going on in his head."

"He did ask me to go back tonight. I wasn't going to but do you think I should go?"

"If you're willing to, then yes. We know there is something brewing, Sookie, we're just not sure what it is. If you're the one to find out it could make your career." I didn't have to listen in to know he was thinking that it could make his as well.

I could hardly blame him for that. Under its thin veneer of politeness and good manners, the Service is a ruthless place to work. Everyone is jostling for power, influence, the best cases.

"That's all you're going to tell me, surely there must be more I need to know?" Naturally I wanted some idea of what I was letting myself in for.

"I'm afraid I'm not authorised to divulge any further details," Julian slipped effortlessly into faceless bureaucrat mould.

"Julian, it's me, Sookie," I protested, but he just shrugged.

"Fine," I continued, "so you're expecting me to put myself in the line of danger without even knowing what for. That'll be a great comfort to me when I'm lying dead, drained of blood, or torn limb from limb."

He didn't respond to my sarcasm, just looked at me as if I was being particularly dim.

"Believe me, Sookie, I'm jealous. It's like being the first man on the moon. You're the Neil Armstrong and I'm the Michael Collins."

With that quip he announced that he had to get back to the office, and I needed to prepare myself for what lay ahead.

xOx-xOx

Deciding what to wear for my evening with a vampire was a challenge. It wasn't exactly a date, but then again it wasn't really a business meeting. I rejected a pencil skirt and fitted jacket as too formal, jeans as too casual. One way or another, I had a feeling this would be a memorable evening. For all I knew it could be my last night on earth, so it deserved my best outfit.

Then I remembered a blue jersey wrap-around dress I'd bought on impulse in the Harvey Nichols sale. It would have been way out of my price-range normally, but the 80% reduction had allowed me to convince myself that I was actually saving money. I'd been saving it for a special occasion; surely spending the evening with a creature who most people didn't even know existed would count.

My old friend Tara had sent me off to London with the gift of a very expensive bra and knickers set, a delicate, sexy concoction in pale pink satin and lace. I had second thoughts as soon as I was dressed. Maybe the underwear was too racy – what if it gave the wrong message. I got undressed and replaced it with sensible white knickers and a T-shirt bra.

I didn't like that either. Why shouldn't I look good, after all I wasn't planning on having him see my undies anyway. I changed again, wasting more time. It was well past sun-down. The buses would be full with the after work crowd going home and the evening crowd going out. They would all be drunk and excited and noisy. The very thought gave me a headache. I considered chickening out.

The first tap at the door was so light I mistook it for the breeze. The second was more insistent. There was someone there, and I had a pretty good idea who it was going to be.

"I hope you weren't planning on letting me down, Miss Stackhouse, I have been looking forward to our rendezvous," his expression was dead-pan so try as I might I couldn't judge his mood.

"No, of course not. I just lost track of time, that's all."

He made no move to enter, just looked at me expectantly, until I remembered my manners.

"I'm sorry, John, please come in."

"You should never do that," he said, in a tone which was really quite patronising, once he was safely over the threshold. "A vampire cannot enter a human home without an invitation from the owner, but once given they can enter at will, until the invitation is rescinded."

"In that case, I rescind your invitation," I snapped back.

To my surprise he glided backwards and out of the door, as if he were being pulled by an invisible string. I'm sorry to say that I burst out laughing. It looked so funny, and it served him right for his rudeness.

Luckily for me, he saw the funny side. "It is good that you should learn this lesson. A practical demonstration is most beneficial." Then he stood there, looking at me expectantly, until I repeated my invitation.

I ushered him into my tiny sitting room, and indicated the two-seater sofa. "Can I get you anything?" I had no idea if vampires could eat or drink.

"No, thank you. We cannot stomach your human food and drink." He sounded just a little wistful, and I thought I caught him glance longingly at my neck.

"You look very lovely," he said, recovering himself.

"Thank you. I really was just about to leave you know, I just wasn't looking forward to the journey."

He didn't respond, and an awkward silence fell. I'd never learned the art of making small talk, let alone flirting. Was it even appropriate to flirt with a creature like him? I already knew how strong he was, and how fast he could move. He probably had lots more tricks up his sleeve.

John prowled around the room. Eventually his attention was drawn to the small library of books I had brought with me to London. "You like poetry?" He asked, picking up a volume of nineteenth century romantic verse.

"Oh yes. My Gran and I used to read together: Wordsworth, Shelley, Keats."

"So who was your favourite?"

That was a difficult question. I loved the poetry but I also loved the personalities; their dramatic, romantic, doomed lives. "Keats, I think," I answered finally, "but surely you didn't come here for an evening of literary criticism."

"No, I did not," he looked a little disappointed. "I need to find out more about you."

"Me? There really isn't a lot to know."

He'd moved away from the bookcase and was looking at a bronze statuette on the mantelpiece. She was an Art Deco dancing girl. Grandad had given her to Gran when they were first married; it had cost him two weeks wages and was her most prized possession. I'd seen a similar one on the Antiques Roadshow once, valued at £950, but nothing would have made me sell her.

John picked her up and examined her closely, running a finger sensuously over her exposed cleavage and down her body. My stomach gave a little flip-flop as the image of those same long white fingers caressing my skin popped into my head. Then, without warning, he snapped her head off.

The frisson of pleasure I had been feeling was replaced by one of fear. I tried not to show it. "What did you do that for? She was very special to me."

"You need to learn not to toy with me, Miss Stackhouse. I'm sorry about the statue. I'll replace it, but please understand that you need to tell me the truth."

I swallowed hard, considering how to respond. "I haven't lied to you; there really isn't anything to tell. I'm twenty-five, practically an orphan, unless you count my brother but I haven't seen him for nearly a year. I don't have any particular talents. The only thing that's unusual about me is that I can read people's minds."

"That strikes me as being a very useful talent. Tell me, can you read my mind?"

"No," I replied quickly, "that's why I knew there was something different about you. You're the first person I've ever met whose mind is a complete blank to me."

He looked thoughtful, and resumed his prowling around the room, moving so quietly that I couldn't even hear his footsteps. The silence made my skin prickle. Eventually he stopped, no more than a foot in front of me.

I met his stare right back, using the opportunity to examine his face more closely. It looked more deathly pale than ever in the glare of electric light. He was undeniably handsome, his brown hair hanging in waves down to his shoulders. His skin had a ravaged appearance. If he'd been human I would have suspected him of being a drug addict, but perhaps he'd suffered some kind of illness before he became a vampire. I wondered briefly if vampires ever got ill, and who cared for them if they did, but it really wasn't the time for idle curiosity. Still I couldn't help thinking that the imperfections added character.

All those thoughts rushed through my brain in barely half a minute, during which time he remained stock still, unblinking, not breathing. The effect was very disconcerting, and I told him so.

"Will you please sit down, you're making me nervous."

To my surprise he laughed and complied without complaint. "Please accept my apologies, Miss Stackhouse, that was not my intention."

"Fine, and could you please call me Sookie. If you're not going to tell me your last name we can at least be less formal about this."

He nodded his acquiescence. Feeling bolder I decided the time had come to stop pussy-footing around. "Could we both just put our cards on the table, I'll tell you what I know if you share your knowledge with me."

He was sitting back down on my little two-seater sofa, and held out a hand inviting me to join him. It would mean getting a bit closer than I was comfortable with, but I wanted him to trust me.

"I'll start," I volunteered, "as I probably know the least. Apparently MI5 have known there were vampires living in London since at least the 1970's. They've been tracking your movements. Julian said that they've sent agents in to try to infiltrate."

John gave a sardonic laugh. "Oh yes, they have tried, many times. What they have not realised is that we vampires have the power to mesmerise humans, to make them believe anything we tell them or to forget. Our American cousins call this glamour, but I prefer our older term, 'fascination'.

"So why haven't you tried to fascinate, or glamour me, whatever you want to call it?"

"It does not seem to affect you. This is why I knew you were something more than human. I have never before met a human who is immune in the way you are."

"Show me," I challenged him. He took my hands and stared deep into my eyes. I felt that odd tingling sensation I'd experienced the first time we met, but nothing more. After a minute or so he gave up. I felt oddly disappointed when he let my hands drop back into my lap, but brushing that thought to one side, I realised I would need to consider whether the fact that he couldn't hypnotise me was an advantage or whether it put me at risk.

"Julian has hinted to me that the Service is expecting some new developments, but he claims not to know what they are. There must be some connection to these murders, otherwise we wouldn't be involved, but that really is all I know."

The intensity of John's gaze had faded but he was still watching me carefully, as if he could judge from my face whether or not I was telling the truth.

"I'm going to trust you with some information, but you must not share it with anyone, not even your friend Julian. If you do, I will rip your head from your shoulders as easily as I did to her." He pointed at the little statute lying in two pieces on the floor.

"Vampires have existed in secret for millennia, living amongst humans but unknown to them. This is all about to change. There are plans, next year, to reveal our existence and to live openly amongst you. Many of us believe this is the only way to preserve our kind. Each year it gets harder to keep hidden. Not everyone is in agreement though."

As he spoke I kept my lips firmly pressed together. I'm sure my mouth would have dropped open in a most unattractive way if I hadn't taken that precaution. I couldn't bring myself to speak, so I just waited for him to continue.

"I have been asked by our King to investigate these murders. We believe they are the work of one who opposes the Revelation, and are intended as a warning of the consequences."

Now I couldn't keep silent. "Your King?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yes, of course. We have our own structure of government. Every community needs its own methods of control. Each country in Europe has a King or Queen. In America they have one for every state, but they would have to go one better than us." His explanation was completely matter of fact, apart from just a hint of sarcasm in his last comment.

"You said yesterday that you thought I may be of help in finding the murderer. What do you expect me to be able to do?"

"For some reason you are able to identify vampires. You noticed me instantly, despite the crowds of people. The one we seek is cunning and will not reveal himself easily."

"If you know who he is, why can't you find him yourself?" I wasn't entirely happy with the direction in which the conversation was going. It was becoming obvious that I was going to have to put myself in danger, again.

"He knows me too well, he was the one who made me vampire," John replied, and I'm sure I saw him shiver. "He will sense my presence immediately and realise that I am on his trail."

My apprehension grew as he told me more. The vampire we were after was over two thousand years old. That knowledge made me shiver.

"When did he make you a vampire?" I didn't know whether it was rude to ask, but if I was going to be putting my life at risk, I really didn't care.

John didn't seem to mind though. "I was turned in Rome, in 1821, the twenty-fifth year of my human life. I had been suffering from consumption, and it was put about that it had killed me."

That explained the unhealthy appearance, I realised.

"Is there anything else you would like to know?" he asked.

Naturally I had a million questions, so many that I didn't know where to start, but I decided that I needed time to process the information I already had, so that's what I told him. "We'll need to develop a proper plan, unless you already have one?"

"I have some ideas but I will discuss them with you. Will you come to me tomorrow evening?"

I agreed, resolving to set out earlier this time.

A hint of a smile crossed his face, which had until then been deadly serious. "Wear this dress; it looks very lovely on you."

Now the thing about wrap around dresses is that they look great when you're standing up and posing in the changing-room mirror, but as soon as you walk, or sit down they have a disconcerting habit of falling loose. I was now giving him a very fine display of cleavage, with a hint of pink satin underneath, and from the look on his face he was appreciating it.

That set off those butterflies in my stomach all over again. He was sitting so close, his knee almost brushing mine. It would be nothing for him to raise a hand, slip the dress off my shoulders, rip my underwear from my body with those strong, pale hands of his…...I took a hasty breath, trying to compose myself. Why was I having these thoughts, when I should be thinking about what new risks I was letting myself in for.

I stood up quickly and stepped away from him. "Listen, John, it's getting late, and you've given me a lot to think about."

He stood up as well, but kept his distance this time. "Yes, you are right; until tomorrow evening then." He was out of the door faster than the blink of an eye. I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to that.

I locked and bolted the front door, made myself a nice, sensible cup of Horlicks and went upstairs to bed, with a feeling of dissatisfaction that I just couldn't shake off. It took me a while to realise what was causing it; I'd really wanted him to kiss me goodbye.

_**A/N Hope you like the 'Bristishisms' in this story. Knickers are panties, and Horlicks is a malted milk drink which is meant to help you sleep!**_


	5. Chapter 5

I considered, possibly for all of five minutes, ignoring John's request to wear my blue dress again the next night. The drawback was that my desire to assert my independence was in conflict with reality. The dress looked good on me, and there wasn't much else in my wardrobe that was suitable. I teamed it with another impulse buy, a pair of black leather knee high boots with kitten heels. I wasn't planning on walking too far.

When I got to the Cemetery it was still light and the gates were open, so I paid my money and went in. Penelope was in the ticket office again, and she gave me a very strange look. I wasn't sure if she recognised me, but I did know that she was thinking how unsuitable my outfit was. "We close in thirty minutes, dear," she informed me in a patronising tone.

"I know; I won't be that long." I took the ticket and stalked off.

John's mausoleum had a small porch with a seat; intended perhaps a place for mourners to rest and contemplate their loved ones. I made myself as comfortable as I could on the cold stone, and extracted the book I'd brought with me from my bag. I was able to reading for over an hour before it got too dark to see any more. It was just about that time I heard voices approaching along the path. Not knowing who they were I swung my legs up onto the bench and clutched my arm around my knees pushing myself back into the shadows.

"I'm telling you, she's not here," the first voice was a man's, not young but not old and with a hint of a West Indian accent, I thought, although it was completely devoid of emotion as if the speaker had been hypnotised. "I've walked the whole cemetery; she must have gone out one of the other gates." As he spoke I could see the flash of torchlight bouncing off the walls.

"She is here, I know it, I can smell her scent," the second voice was definitely older and had an accent I couldn't place. He wasn't English, I could be sure of that.

I didn't dare move but I was pretty sure it was me they were talking about. It was fully dark now, why hadn't John appeared yet? As if in answer to my prayer, the Mausoleum door swung open with a groan. I winced, hoping that the prowlers wouldn't hear it.

"What is wrong?" John looked as worried as I felt.

"Inside, now," I ordered and to my relief he grabbed me and pulled me inside.

When the door was safely shut behind us I blurted out, "There was someone searching the cemetery. I'm sure it was me they were looking for. One of them was human, but I'm not sure about the other – he said he could smell me."

John looked even more "It could well be my Master, I sensed his presence nearby. He will know I have been in contact with a human. He has spies everywhere. We are going to have to move faster than I had planned."

"Great, so this is the creature you think is a mass murderer and now I'm in his sights." Why did I always seem to end up as a pawn in games I didn't really understand? I don't consider myself a coward but there was something very scary about not knowing what was going on around me. Still, there was nothing I could do, I would just have to pull on my big girl pants and get on with it.

For a vampire who was nearly two hundred years old, John was surprisingly sympathetic. He put an arm around my shoulder and guided me over to one of the red velvet chaise longue which furnished the room. His touch was cool, but it set off little rivulets of heat racing through my body, like lava flowing from a volcano and pooling….. well I won't dwell on that. The only thing I was sure of was that I was getting in too deep, in more ways than one.

"I don't think he will know who you are. I have been very careful and I'm sure I was not followed when I called on you, I would have sensed it. He will just know that a human has been here and will want to know why."

John didn't seem to mind my questions about his vampire life so I risked asking him more about the creature he called his Master.

"It is the way we continue our race, by choosing humans to turn. A vampire is bound forever to the one who makes him, they are your master and you are their child. My master, as I told you, is very ancient and has made many children. Some have met their final death but many others survive, scattered all over the world. He allows us to make our own children, but he is jealous and controlling. Sometimes he will take one of our children for his own regardless of the wishes of its true master."

"Do you have any children?"

"I have one, or rather I had one, until my Master decided we were becoming too close and banished her."

I might sound like a horrible person but I'm sorry to say that the look of despair and desolation on his face only made me feel quite jealous. He must have loved her so very much, that was obvious

"My Lizzie was so special," he continued. "She was beautiful, talented, kind. That idiot Rossetti didn't appreciate her, he took her for granted, betrayed her with other women. As soon as I knew she was dying, I had to save her."

That explained a lot, such as why her body still looked fresh when Dante Gabriel Rossetti had her grave opened to reclaim his poems. No-one would have suspected then, they just attributed it to the beauty of the woman who had been a muse for so many of the pre-Raphaelite painters; their Ophelia, their Beatrix. I'd had the poster on my wall as a teenager, Ophelia lying drowned amongst the lilies.

I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to touch his hand. He gave a half-smile and twined his fingers in with mine; we sat in silence for a long time.

"Where is she now?" I asked, eventually.

"I have no idea. There is a bond between Master and Child, but my Master is ancient and that made him powerful enough to break it. I appealed to the King, as what he had done was quite contrary to our laws, but that monarch was weak and refused to intervene. I know I will never see her again."

He gave my hand a little squeeze and seemed to compose himself, "That's all in the past. We have more important things to worry about. There is someone I want you to meet, a person of very great importance."

I wanted to ask who, but he had let go of my hand, stood up and was fussing over the cushions and curtains, behaving as if the Queen Mother was coming to tea. As it turned out I wasn't far wrong. There was a solemn knock on the door, which swung open to reveal a flunky, resplendent in a red frock coat with gold buttons. I tried listening in to get a clue as to who the visitors might be, but he wasn't human.

He stepped to one side and gave a deep bow, then ushered in the couple who had been standing behind him. "May I present his Majesty, King Edward, and his Queen."

John gave a deep bow, and I struggled into a curtsey. The vampire King of England was indeed a real King, or at least he had been for the few months before his sudden abdication to be with 'the woman he loved.' Now I had a very good idea of the reason for that drama.

I must have been gawping, as John shot me an odd look. If I had been able to read his mind I'm sure he would have been thinking that I needed to pull myself together.

I knew enough about etiquette to realise that I should let his Majesty speak first, so I waited expectantly. He gave me a winning smile, then took my hand and kissed it. His lips were cold, just like John's. His wife, meanwhile, had a 'do get on with it' expression on her face. I'm sorry to say that I didn't warm to her.

My feet were beginning to ache in my unaccustomed heels, but I waited patiently until John finally motioned to the royal party to sit down, and he and I took a seat opposite them.

"So this is the woman who you believe can help us?" King Edward spoke to John, ignoring me, while his wife maintained her tight little artificial smile.

"Yes. I believe my Master will seek her out, he knows now that I have an interest in her. He will want to know my intentions towards her." To my intense irritation, John replied in the same vein, as if I wasn't even in the room with them.

I wasn't quite sure what to make of his words. Annoyed as I was, I couldn't supress a frisson of pleasure at the thought that he was interested in me, but that was quickly replaced with concern at what his intentions might be.

"And then what?" It was the Queen's turn to question him, and I have to say that she did not sound at all convinced. To be fair though I'm sure it was the same thing we were all thinking.

"I need to confront him, so far he has been avoiding any contact with the vampire hierarchy, but if he is brought to face me, he has to obey my commands," Edward had the confidence of his background and class. "He created the system and he has to abide by it. Whichever territory a vampire enters he is bound to obey the ruler of that territory. Our constitution is very clear on that point. Paragraph 283 a, clause ii, subsection five…."

The queen gave a false yawn, and I'm sorry to say that my eyes glazed over as he recited the relevant clause, which appeared to have been written in the fifteenth century if the archaic language was anything to go by.

"Yes, yes dear," she said impatiently. "That's all very well, but what's to stop him rewriting the rules if it suit his purposes." I got the feeling she was a lot more worldly-wise than her husband.

I wasn't sure that I should say anything, but this was my life they were talking about. I gave a little cough and everyone turned to look at me. "Could I just check that I understand? You need to lure this vampire, your Master, out into the open, and you think using me as bait will work for that." I looked from John to the King, waiting for confirmation.

"She does look awfully young, are you quite sure she is up to the task?" Once again the King addressed his question to John, not even looking at me.

Meanwhile his Queen was looking me up and down in a manner that could only be described as supercilious, or to be more honest, downright rude.

"You are really quite pretty my dear. If you lost a few pounds you might even be considered beautiful."

I supressed a snort of disgust, coming from a stick insect like her it was an insult to suggest that I needed to lose weight.

John moved closer to me, so close his body was almost touching mine. I could tell, even without looking at him, that he was tense. I chose to think that he was offended on my behalf.

"I have complete confidence in Miss Stackhouse," he said, coolly. "She is our best hope. My Master can stay hidden for ever, and we know that he is determined to oppose the revelation. He could do a great deal of damage to our cause. We have to force him out into the open."

"I trust your judgement Mr Keats. You will be well rewarded if everything goes to plan." He gave me a kindly smile, which was at least genuine, unlike his wife. With that they swept out of the room.

As soon as they'd gone I collapsed in hysterical laughter. "Oh my God!" I repeated at least three times, until I thought John was going to slap me. Taking several very deep breaths I manage to calm myself.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sounding puzzled at my reaction.

"Sorry. It's just so hard to take in. First of all I meet one of the greatest of all English poets, then a real live, well a real dead, King. You're going to have to give me a minute to take this all in. How on earth have they kept themselves hidden?"

John just laughed. "You, of all people, should know the answer to that. The British establishment is the finest in the world when it comes to keeping secrets. The story I have heard is that Wallis was already a vampire when she met Edward. That was the source of her power of him. You may not know, but vampire sexual prowess is legendary," he didn't quite meet my eye at that point, and I could have sworn I saw the faintest hint of a blush on his pale cheeks.

"She wanted to preserve him with her always so she made him vampire. Naturally he could not fulfil his duties after that."

"But they were seen in public after the abdication. Didn't he go off to be governor of Bermuda or something; then they lived in Paris, how can they have got away with it?"

"They used impersonators during the day. It wasn't hard; most people had only seen them in photographs or on the newsreel. The quality of the images was never very good. Gradually they became more reclusive so in the end they were hardly seen at all. The problem was that eventually their false human identities would have to die. That was when his Majesty began to consider the possibility that we could one day make our existence public. It would enable them to resume their lifestyle and reclaim their possessions." He pulled a face as he finished the sentence, suggesting that he didn't entirely approve of their motives.

It made sense to me though, what was the point of all that money and power if you never got to enjoy it, if you had to skulk in the shadows like some kind of monster.

"Wouldn't you like to be out in the open again? You could publish more poetry – maybe even claim the royalties for your original works." The reality of their existence was slowly becoming apparent to me.

"It is true I would very much like to correct some of the untruths which have been spread about me. I do have many works I would like to publish, perhaps I could read them to you one day."

I nodded enthusiastically. What could be more romantic than to hear poetry written by one of the greatest writers of his human time? For now though he was looking serious, and I knew that we were going to have to discuss his plans in more detail.

Now that we were alone he had visibly relaxed, and had taken the opportunity to drape an arm casually around my shoulder. I snuggled a little closer, it was chilly in the vault; that was my excuse anyway. He responded by slipping his other arm around my waist and pulling me tighter.

"It's going to be dangerous, isn't it?" I asked, "making myself the bait for your master."

"There is always danger when you are in the company of vampires, you need to know that. However I will do my best to protect you. I have a blood tie to my Master, I can sense his presence."

A sudden thought occurred to me, and I interrupted him. "That's what I don't understand. If you've got this link, why can't you just track him down yourself, why do you need me?"

"I can sense his presence, but equally he can sense mine. If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. A master can call his child at any time and the child has to obey, but this does not work the other way around."

I was still feeling confused about his plan, and exactly what he expected from me, but I was getting tired and I wasn't sure I could take in much more. Just as I was thinking about leaving, John made it clear that he had very different ideas.

"I think you should stay until dawn, you will be safe if you leave in daylight."

By my reckoning that was a good three hours away. I had to admit though, I could see his point. If a powerful and dangerous vampire was out on the prowl I didn't want to risk him finding me, so we would just have to find something to fill the time.

"I could read to you, if you like?" John suggested. "What would you like to hear?"

I thought about his poems, trying to choose my favourite. "La Belle Dame Sans Merci," I decided.

He smiled, and raised an eyebrow, "how appropriate." Then he began to recite the poem and I was transported. I forgot my concerns about facing an ancient and dangerous vampire; I no longer felt the chill in the room. The sound of his voice was all there was.

_Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake, and no birds sing._

_Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, so haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel's granary is full, and the harvest's done._

_I see a lily on thy brow, with anguish moist and fever-dew, a nd on thy cheeks a fading rose, fast withereth too._

_I met a lady in the meads, full beautiful - a faery's child, her hair was long, her foot was light, and her eyes were wild._

_I made a garland for her head, and bracelets too, and fragrant zone; she looked at me as she did love, and made sweet moan._

_I set her on my pacing steed, and nothing else saw all day long, for sidelong would she bend, and sing, a faery's song._

_She found me roots of relish sweet, and honey wild, and manna-dew, and sure in language strange she said - 'I love thee true'._

_She took me to her elfin grot, and there she wept and sighed full sore, and there I shut her wild, wild eyes, with kisses four._

_And there she lulled me asleep, and there I dreamed - Ah! woe betide! - the latest dream I ever dreamt, on the cold hill side._

_I saw pale kings and princes too, pale warriors, death-pale were they all; they cried - 'La Belle Dame sans Merci, hath thee in thrall!'_

_I saw their starved lips in the gloam, with horrid warning gaped wide, and I awoke and found me here, on the cold hill's side._

_And this is why I sojourn here, alone and palely loitering, though the sedge is withered from the lake, and no birds sing._

His voice was barely a whisper as he finished; so close to my ear that I could almost feel his lips brushing against my skin. Never before had the poem sounded so beautiful or so melancholy. The aching vulnerability of a man betrayed by his lover echoed from every word.

All I could see was the man he had once been, and I wanted him, so badly that my whole body ached with desire. It didn't matter that he was strong enough to tear me limb from limb if he chose, or that he probably only wanted to use me to further some vampire agenda. The only thing that really stopped me was the knowledge that this wasn't the place and it certainly wasn't the time. The first hint of the light of dawn was showing through the thick layer of dust on the stained glass windows.

"I have to go to my daytime rest, but I will see you tonight." Lifting me gently, he stood up, and retrieved a heavy wrought iron key from a box. "You can let yourself out of the side gate. Do you have the fare for a taxi?"

I nodded, and listened carefully as he gave me directions to the way out of the cemetery. It wasn't light enough outside to make me feel totally confident.

The he pulled me against him and kissed my cheek. I lingered in his embrace for as long as I could hoping he might kiss me properly, but not having the nerve to initiate it myself. Perhaps later, but for now I needed to get out of there, get home and get some sleep.

_**This chapter is dedicated to axadams and kleannhouse – for being the first to guess the identity of the mystery vampire – well done ladies.**_


	6. Chapter 6

'_When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping_.' It was the motto of that upper class set known as the Sloane Rangers, whose days were filled with coffee breaks, shopping and dining out on super skinny salads. For the first time in my life I could understand the attraction. As I strolled along Knightsbridge, admiring the extravagant window displays, the strange events of the previous night seemed like a dream.

I knew the people I passed had worries of their own. For some it was the size of their credit card bill, which was hardly surprising if the bags of shopping they were carrying were anything to go by. Others had more serious concerns: the millennium bug which was predicted to bring computers worldwide crashing to a halt. Planes would fall from the sky, the banking system would collapse, and whole cities would be blacked out.

Mostly I was able to keep my shields up, but every now and then a particularly strong broadcaster would catch me out. "_My husband will kill me if he finds out how much it costs_." "_I have to get into a size six before the wedding_." "_That bitch, how dare she suggest I'm overweight_."

What none of them realised, not a single person, was that they were sharing their city with a small army of the undead who would be revealing their presence in only a few months. How would they react? Panic, curiosity, anger – it was impossible to predict. I wondered how much the authorities knew, and what their plans were.

I didn't let that weigh on my mind though. Quite the opposite, as I was feeling unusually frivolous. I'd been living frugally since I arrived in London. My tiny cottage came at a subsidised rent, I walked to work every day, I didn't socialise much. The highlight of my social life was eating out with Julian once a week. As a result my bank balance was remarkably healthy and now I was in the mood to splash out.

It's strange the effect an encounter with a good looking man can have even if he is, technically, dead. I'd never really cared about how I looked before. Quite the opposite, I got so fed up with guys focussing on my tits and arse that I felt much more comfortable in baggy T-shirts and jeans. Now, for the first time in my life, I really wanted to look good.

It took me four shops to find what I really needed: a shop assistant who told the truth: saying, "Oh that looks great on you," while thinking, "_it makes her bum look huge_," really didn't impress me. The girl in the fourth shop gave me a shy smile from under her long golden-brown eyelashes. She was the first one not to focus on some imperfection in my face or figure so naturally I gravitated towards her. With her help I chose a complete new wardrobe; a pale blue silk dress, three skirts, some wide-legged linen trousers which she assured me were the height of fashion, cotton tops perfectly styled to accentuate my figure without looking like a tart. I left the shops with five bags full of clothes and strolled off down the street feeling like a proper Londoner for the first time ever.

A morning of serious shopping had left me really hungry. Living in London had been an eye-opening culinary experience for me. After a childhood brought up on plain English cooking I loved the variety: Indian, Chinese, Thai, Greek. Name any country in the world and you could be transported there. For lunch I decided on Italian. I knew a delightful family–run Trattoria, wonderful food, not too busy and where the tables were placed far enough apart that I could eat without being assailed with every detail of the private lives of my fellow diners.

I was half-way through a bowl of minestrone soup when a very familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

"Mind if I join you?" It might have sounded like a question but it wasn't. Julian pulled up a chair and sat down opposite me. "So when am I going to get a briefing from you?" he continued.

"When I'm back at work; I'm still on recovery leave remember, what I do in my own time is my business."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he flashed me his most charming smile, in an attempt to improve my humour. "There's a conference next week, and they need you so your review has been kicked into the long grass."

I wasn't impressed. The Service is nothing if not meticulous when it comes to record-keeping and if I wasn't cleared of the accusation of sabotaging a mission, it would stay on my file and could be used against me. "Not good enough, Julian, I'm not coming back with a cloud hanging over me." I glared at him, looking as stubborn as I felt.

"It might help if you told me the truth about what you've been doing." He met my gaze with an equally stubborn glare of his own.

I turned my attention back to my soup, while he ordered a cappuccino, and we sat in silence. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have been so rude as to listen to his thoughts, but I was seriously pissed off.

He had a confident smile on his face, but underneath his mind was whirring away. "_Shit_," he was thinking, "_why does she have to be so stubborn. My arse will be on the line if I can't get her in to meet the American delegation_."

Touche. It seemed we were both keeping secrets from each other. I wondered what was so special about this American delegation.

"Who are these Americans?" He might not answer my question openly, but he wouldn't be able to stop himself from revealing the truth in his thoughts – no-one could.

"Honestly, Sookie I don't know. There's nothing to reveal, even if you try your Jedi mind tricks on me." He smiled briefly at our favourite shared joke. "This is so hush-hush I'm not even sure the Director knows."

"Do you think it has something to do with vampires?" The fact that they wanted me suggested it could be.

"All I can tell you is that the main boardroom has been booked for 8pm and by my reckoning that's well after sundown." He raised an eyebrow; then gave a hasty glance around the room to check that he hadn't been overheard.

I considered telling him about the plans the vampires had to reveal themselves, but decided against it. It was risky, I knew. If anything went wrong there would be no way to cover my back. The knowledge that I was deceiving him, at least by omission, forced a gesture of conciliation. "I'll come in for the conference, provided you can arrange to have my record cleared so that I'm officially reinstated."

"Fine," he agreed, much too smoothly. They obviously really wanted me at the conference.

Julian dropped a twenty-pound note on the table, easily enough to cover the cost of my lunch with a tip. He bent down to kiss me on the cheek, and caught a glimpse of my shopping bags stuffed under the table.

"Hot date?" he asked with a smirk.

"None of your business; Last time I checked shopping was still legal." It wasn't like me to be so snippy with Julian, but as the day went on I found myself growing increasingly edgy.

"Don't be like that; I'm just disappointed you didn't choose me as your personal shopper." His face assumed an expression of exaggerated despair.

Shooing him on his way, I gathered my bags together and set off down (check street). The Tagliatelle Carbonara was churning around in my stomach. My encounter with Julian had upset me, I didn't like to keep secrets from him and I knew that doing so would leave me exposed if anything went wrong. I didn't pay much attention to the newspaper billboards when I saw the first one; 'Star found dead' wasn't that much of a big deal, probably a drug overdose, it happened all the time.

The vendor's cry sent a chill through me though: "Eee'n Standard, Pop star murdered, read all about it!" I couldn't resist buying a copy of the Evening Standard to be confronted with a face that even I recognised: Madonna. The story had very little detail, just that she'd been found in mysterious circumstances. I wondered if John would know anything about it, but I couldn't help the suspicion that his Master might have decided to raise the stakes.

Shoving the paper in one of my bags I hurried home. I had maybe four hours till sunset but I wanted to have a long bath, plus I had all my new clothes to try on. A few minutes of the TV news were enough to confirm my worst fears about the murder. They were cagey about the cause of death and the location of the body, but I recognised it immediately in the background behind the reporter. John's mausoleum was very distinctive. This had to be an act of deliberate provocation. Even though it was still broad daylight, I made sure to lock and bolt my front door and make sure all the windows were closed.

I went through the motions of a normal evening. Okay I may have spent a bit longer than normal shaving my legs; and it wasn't just because I'd eaten a big lunch that I had no appetite. I changed my dress three times, trying to find the perfect fit and colour, so by the time I finally got to doing my hair the last traces of sunlight had disappeared. Then all I could do was to sit and wait, forcing myself to stay still and not pace up and down.

The knock was so quiet it took me a moment to register, but there John stood, politely waiting, on the doorstep.

"I thought you could just walk in?"

"I can," he smiled, "but that would be rude. I would never forget my manners with a lady."

He held out a bunch of flowers. It was an unusual combination; blue cornflowers to match my eyes, delicate babies' breath, interspersed with spiny purple artichokes for dramatic effect. I'd never been given flowers before and I could feel myself blushing, not knowing quite how to react.

My reaction seemed to please him, as he stepped in closer, pausing briefly to lay his floral gift down on the hall table. If he'd been breathing I would have felt his breath on my face, but I didn't back away. I looked up at him, and I knew that he wanted to kiss me. It hung in the air between us until I leant forward raising myself up the couple of inches I needed to match his height.

He slipped a hand behind my neck and loosened the French plait I'd spent half an hour fixing. The lightest of touches was all it needed and his lips met mine. I let him lead me, acting on instinct as he began a gentle exploration with his tongue. My fingers wound tightly into the silky dark curls of his hair.

Now I can count the number of men I've kissed on one hand. One finger actually, and he wasn't even a man, just a greasy little boy in the second year at Coleford High who'd cornered me behind the bike sheds at school and forced his slimy slug of a tongue down my throat. Billy Compton his name was, I'd never forgotten him, and the nasty thoughts he had about what he wanted to do to me.

Ugh, I forced that memory to the back of my mind and focussed on the man who was kissing me now. Inexperienced as I was, I could tell he was a really great kisser. We hadn't made it out of the hall yet though, and much as it pained me to break the intimacy I was keen to get somewhere a bit more comfortable. Reluctantly I pulled away and, slipping my hand into his, led him into the living room.

If he'd been human I would have known to offer him a drink or maybe a snack, but the only thing I could offer was myself and I wasn't quite ready for that. I wasn't sure what I was ready for. I wanted him and it terrified me. I'd imagined this moment so many times, but in my fantasies everything played out like a film; the hero would sweep me off my feet, and I would swoon into his embrace. No words would be needed between us. I might think of myself as every inch the modern woman but right now I felt just like an old-fashioned Victorian heroine.

Maybe he sensed my nervousness and uncertainty as he stopped and pulled me back to face him, then raised the hand which had been holding his to his lips. I swear I felt my insides melt as he kissed my palm while looking up at me from under those long brown eyelashes of his.

"It's been a long time, Sookie. I swore, after Lizzie, that I would never again let myself have feelings for a woman." He looked every inch the romantic hero and I was in serious danger of melting down into a puddle on the floor.

"I've never…." I stammered, more nervous than ever.

"Shh," he stepped in close again and put a finger to my lips, "I know; you don't have to say a word."

His kisses were slow and lingering, tracing the contours of my body. I could feel the tension building; I wanted him to bite me, fuck me, just do it. Grasping his head in my hands I pulled his mouth up to meet mine and kissed him with a lifetime of supressed passion. I could almost taste the surprise. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then responded with a force I could barely match.

He pushed me back into the wall, his hips rolling against mine. Inexperienced as I was, I knew he was ready. Possessed by a wild spirit, I hooked one leg up around his thigh pulling him in as close as could be. He slid a hand up under my dress and, before I could protest, my expensive new lace knickers were lying discarded on the floor.

Then his fingers were inside me, first one then a second, moving with a sensuous rhythm. I was panting, my chest heaving as my body shuddered with unfamiliar and uncontrollable sensations. I tilted my neck to one side and closed my eyes. As he bit me I screamed his name.

I was still shaking as he pulled away, after gently licking the wounds on my neck as a cat might have done. There was a deep sadness in his eyes as he looked at me.

"I'm sorry, Sookie, I've never…it is many, many decades since I lost control like that." He sounded apologetic, but I felt triumphant.

I smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. "I hope that was just the starter, 'cos I'm ready for my main course," I took his hand and led him upstairs to the bedroom. I sincerely hoped that Gran wasn't watching me from wherever her spirit now was.

My dress was already hanging loose and it took barely seconds for him to remove it completely, along with my bra. Meanwhile I was practically clawing at his clothes, desperate for the feeling of his naked skin against mine.

"Shh, sweetheart, we have all night," John smiled as he slipped his hands around my waist and lifted me onto the bed. We never broke eye contact as I pushed myself up towards the bed-head, and he smoothly extracted himself from his clothes.

I had to supress a gasp when he finally stood before me in all his masculine glory, but I couldn't disguise my expression and I could tell from his face that my reaction amused and pleased him.

He crawled up onto the bed and began to work his way up my body, stopping to plant kisses strategically en route. His fangs were fully extended and grazed my skin, an effect which was oddly sensuous. I was a little bit sore from our uncontrolled burst of passion downstairs, but all the soreness melted away as he lavished attention with his lips and his tongue. I couldn't stop myself from moaning, I wanted him so badly. I needed to feel what it was like to be possessed by a man so I reached down to stroke his shoulders, willing him to move on up.

He picked up my intention instantly and resumed his journey, pausing once again when he reached my breasts. As he licked and sucked, all the while stroking me with his cool fingers I felt as if my body was tearing itself apart as currents of passion flowed in all directions, each one amplifying the others.

"Please, please…" I whimpered, desperate to have him inside me.

He got the message and shifted position, gently pushing my thighs further apart so that he could settle himself and then he was inside me. He moved slowly at first, but I responded eagerly raising my hips up of the bed to meet him. He didn't need any further encouragement as he moved harder and faster. I could hear little growls of pleasure deep in his throat and that turned me on even more, if such a thing was possible. I wrapped my legs around his hips joining our bodies in perfect union so it felt as if we were one person, one being.

I could feel that golden moment of passion was near and I didn't hold back. I clawed at his back with my nails. There was no-one to hear, only the horses in the stables and the night birds, so I gave free rein to my feelings crying out in ecstasy.

Moments later I felt him shudder and fall still. He held me tight in his arms as he lowered himself carefully down onto the bed, rolling me onto my side so we could look at each other. He gave me the sweetest smile and planted soft kisses on my cheeks, my nose, my eyelids. I really wanted to know if I'd been alright, if a virgin human could truly satisfy him, but I knew it would sound naïve and besides what if I didn't get the answer I wanted.

"You drew blood," he didn't sound surprised, or even upset but I guessed that was a vampire thing.

I untangled my arms and lifted a hand up close to my face. He was right; there were traces of blood under my nails and on the tips of my fingers.

"Lick it off."

"Ugh," I protested, but he had a determined look on his face.

Gingerly I lifted one finger to my mouth and sucked on it. The taste was sweeter than I'd expected, so I licked the other fingers clean in no time. Then an awful thought occurred to me. "I won't become a vampire will I, from drinking your blood?"

"No," he smiled reassuringly and gave me a gentle kiss. "Making a vampire is a complex process and not one to be undertaken lightly."

"I'm glad to hear that because I really like being human."

He looked briefly puzzled, then laughed as if he was privy to some secret that I didn't know about.

We lay in silence for a long time, his arms around me and my head resting on his chest. It was strange not to feel the rise and fall of a heartbeat, but I quickly accustomed myself to the cool softness of his skin.

It took a while for my head to clear. I'm not quite sure how long I lay just replaying the incredible sensations over in my mind, committing them to memory so that whatever happened I would never forget this wonderful night. Try as I might it was impossible to banish fleeting images from the outside world, and I had to face the reality of what we were dealing with.

"Did you hear about the murder?" I asked. I didn't look at him, but stared up at the ceiling, focussing on a small damp spot in the corner.

"I could hardly avoid it, with the body being dumped on my doorstep."

"That wasn't an accident was it?" I knew the answer but needed to have him confirm it.

"No, things must be moving faster than I had realised, and my Master is getting desperate. He wants to provoke the authorities; and me as well."

He could hardly have been more provocative with his choice of victim. Ever since she'd moved to London to live with her British fiancé, Madonna had been a favourite of the flourishing network of gossip magazines. I was still struggling to get to grips with celebrity culture but even my Gran would have recognised her.

If this mysterious vampire was audacious enough to select her as a victim, who knew what he might do next. John had chosen me because he thought I could help find this merciless killer and we both knew there wasn't much time. I felt a brief sensation of sick panic in the pit of my stomach. Not from fear, but from concern that I was being used, that this whole seduction was just to soften me up for the task ahead.

Even as I had that thought, John rolled onto his side and raised himself up on one elbow to look at me. With his free hand he hooked strands of hair back from where they had fallen over my face.

"Are you scared?"

I couldn't tell if his look of concern was genuine. How good an actor do you get to be after living two hundred years in hiding. "Not scared, exactly," I bit my lip, unable to express what I really felt.

"This," he swept a hand down over my stomach to rest on my upper thigh, "this is real. I won't deny that I need your assistance to lure my Master, but what has happened between us tonight is nothing to do with that."

I wasn't sure whether to believe him, but he silenced my doubts with a kiss. It was obvious he was ready for round two and I was in no mood to deny him.

I've no idea how sex with a vampire compares with regular human sex, but it was certainly exhausting. Try as I might I couldn't keep my eyes open for another minute. John leant in close to kiss me and tell me that he had to go, and that was the last thing I remember.

By the time I woke next day, the sun was high in the sky. There was a note on my kitchen table, and a key ring with two big iron keys. '_Come to me tonight_,' the note said, in a sprawling, old-fashioned hand. He'd sketched a little plan, reminding me of the location of a secret gate into the cemetery. That must be what one of the keys was for, and the other would be to the mausoleum itself. The knowledge that he trusted me enough to give me access to his resting place made me feel warm inside. If he was willing to put that trust in me, surely I could trust him in return.


	7. Chapter 7

**A reminder of the story so far: It's set in London, autumn 1999 and plans are well advanced for the great vampire revelation, but not everyone in the vampire community is happy with these developments. In this story my version Sookie has used her telepathy to pursue her childhood ambition to become a spy. She has been drawn into the investigation into a series of murders, and as a result has met her first vampire, the poet John Keats. John needs Sookie's ability to recognise vampires and to resist their hypnotic power, if he is to thwart his own maker's plans.**

The anticipation of seeing John again made it easy to block out the thoughts of people around me, so I made most of the journey to Highgate on the Underground. As the carriages shuddered their way through the dark tunnels I closed my eyes and imagined the feeling of his cool fingers stroking my skin.

My face must have given away more than I intended. As the carriages rattled more loudly, indicating that we were approaching a station, I glanced up to see an elderly lady sitting opposite me with an expression of sympathetic amusement on her face. The unexpected contact penetrated my mental shields. '_You enjoy it while you are young_,' she was directing her thoughts straight at me as if she knew I would be able to understand them. '_I just hope he is worth it my dear, so few of them are._'

'_I'm sorry_,' I thought back at her.

'_Don't be_,' she replied, raising herself unsteadily out of her seat as the train came to a halt. '_You must use your powers though; you have more than you think_.'

I half lifted myself out of my seat and reached out for her, but for a woman of her age she moved surprisingly fast and she was out of the doors and into the corridors before I was even standing. I considered running after her but it was too late. "Stand clear of the doors" the conductor's voice instructed.

The realisation that there were other people with my skill occupied my thoughts for the remainder of the journey. Every person I passed as I followed the road up from Archway tube station to the cemetery made me wonder. In future I would listen out more carefully to see if I could identify other telepaths. The old woman's comments about using my powers also perplexed me. Did she just mean telepathy or was she referring to something else?

There was still plenty of daylight, allowing me to find the private gate into the cemetery easily and to let myself in without being seen. It was a warm afternoon for September and there were a few visitors following their little printed guides around the headstones and mausoleums. I exchanged friendly smiles and stopped from time to time to examine an inscription, as if my purpose there was no different from theirs. Eventually the paths around John's mausoleum cleared, and I was able to let myself in. It didn't stop me wincing as the door creaked open, the rusty iron hinges complaining at being disturbed.

Once inside, I couldn't resist taking the opportunity to have a good look around. For a mausoleum in the middle of a cemetery it was remarkably clean. I tried to imagine him having a cleaner, some elderly Irish woman called Kathleen or Bernadette perhaps, who'd been persuaded by the power of fascination to come in once a week and 'do' for him.

I noticed many details which I'd missed before. One alcove housed a bookcase full of volumes of poetry. John had eclectic tastes, and I was interested to see that he had kept up with the modern world: Yeates, Larkin and Hughes all vied for space. I was amused to see that he had several biographies of himself which, from the state of their bindings, I could tell were well read. I imagined him getting angry as complete strangers picked apart his character and behaviour – I know I would have done.

In another corner was a writing desk. There was no sign of a typewriter, and with no electricity a computer was out of the question, but I was interested to see that he used an old fashioned fountain pen with a bottle of black ink. Sheets of paper were scattered haphazardly over the surface. His handwriting was quite awful. I could tell that it was poetry, but it looked as if it had been written by a spider which had dipped its legs in the ink. Try as I might; I could only decipher a few words.

It had got dark almost without me realising. I glimpsed a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, but before I could turn around a pair of arms had slipped around my waist, and a cool mouth was nibbling my left earlobe. I shivered with pleasure and anticipation. He seemed to have found a direct connection from my ear down to somewhere much more sensitive.

"I hope you're not too cold," he enquired, pulling me in tighter as if that would warm me. I shook my head.

"Good, I have a woman who comes in; she's from an old family of Irish witches so I fascinated her to put a temperature spell on the room."

"She'll be called Bernadette, I suppose," I laughed, watching as he lit two oil lamps to give the room a golden glow.

"Doreen, actually," he replied looking at me as if I was ever so slightly deranged.

I shrugged, "Is she a real witch though, like in 'Harry Potter'?" I knew I wasn't the only adult who was addicted to the series of children's books and couldn't wait for the next instalment.

He shook his head, as if to indicate that I wouldn't understand. "There are so many things on this earth that humans know nothing of. I am surprised that you don't realise it."

I wanted to ask what he meant, but could sense the tension in the way he was holding me, and I knew he had things he needed to discuss.

"Later we can relax, but first we must talk." His voice was quiet and showed no emotion, not fear, or concern or even anticipation. That was what made me really nervous.

Wriggling free of his embrace, I crossed the room to one of the chaise longue and, plumping up the velvet cushions, made myself comfortable. John said nothing for several minutes. He seemed deep in thought, leaning against his writing desk with his back to me.

Eventually he turned round and began to walk towards me, then seemed to think better of it and turned in the opposite direction so he was looking out of, or maybe looking at one of the stained glass windows. I'd noticed it earlier; it depicted a female angel, dressed in armour, long auburn hair falling in tumbling waves down her back. She looked very familiar and I wondered what co-incidence had brought the reminder of John's former lover to his resting place.

"I wish I did not have to ask you to do this." He seemed to be speaking to himself as much as to me. "I mean it, Sookie," he turned and faced me. "I know you are brave, and resourceful, but the risk is very great."

"We both know there's no choice," I don't think my voice faltered, but he could probably sense how scared I really was. "But you really need to tell me everything."

Crossing the room with one of those disconcerting bursts of speed he was prone to, he sat next to me on the chaise, and I took the opportunity to snuggle in close as he began his story.

"My master, Appius Livius Ocella, is an ancient vampire. I believe he was made in the earliest days of Rome. He used to boast that his own master had been made by the very first vampire in ancient Egypt. If that is true then it was a cruel heritage. He believes that vampires are as superior to humans as you believe you are to the animals which you eat. He will do anything to stop us trying to live as equals amongst you."

"Okay, I get that, and I get that you want to use me as bait to draw him out," I tried not to sound bitter as I went over that plan in my head, "but then what?"

"At best, I hope he will bow to the authority of our king. He sets great store by the ancient traditions of our kind and obedience one of the few values he has."

I wondered what I would have found out if I could read his thoughts, but I had to ask him, "If that's the best, what's the worst?"

"We may at least scare him off. If he realises that many of us know that he has been responsible for these murders he will be forced to try a different tactic. We only need to force him back underground for a few months and it will be too late for him to stop the great revelation."

The whole plan sounded weak to me, but I tried not to be too critical. I had to assume that John understood vampire behaviour a whole lot better than I did, but even so I was worried that in his heart he was a poet, and that tackling evil wouldn't come naturally to him.

"So you think this Appius," I said his name slowly, testing it out, "Appius Livius Ocella , will come after me."

"I'm sure of it. He will know that I have an interest in you and that will be enough to draw him in. What he does not know is that you will not succumb to his fascination, you will be fully aware of everything he is doing."

That last comment made me shiver. "And when he does take me, you'll be waiting, you and King Edward and…"

John looked embarrassed, perhaps fearing that I doubted his plan, which to be fair, I did.

"There are others," he said, but didn't explain any further.

I would have felt a lot more confident if he'd given me some names. I lay back in his arms, soaking up the sensation of having someone hold me. Despite all my doubts, I was certain that he did care for me, and that I wasn't just being used for some higher vampire purpose. Where that certainty came from I had no idea. I could walk away, in theory, but I was willing to take the risk for this.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, ghosting feather-light kisses on my cheek and my neck.

"Truthfully?"

"Of course."

"I'm thinking that I must be quite crazy to get involved in your world, I should get up and walk away right now."

"But you won't." He sounded surprisingly certain.

"No; because I have a feeling that now I'm involved, there's no turning back."

John didn't answer which just served to confirm that what I'd said was right.

"So what happens next?"

"I thought perhaps we could go out,"

"Out," I repeated back at him, even though I knew it sounded silly, "you mean like a date?"

It was his turn to look puzzled; I guess the phrase was a bit too modern for him, or maybe too American

"I would like to spend time with you, to get to know you better. In my human life it was called courting, if that is what you mean."

"I guess so. Did you court many women, in your human life?" Maybe I was being too intrusive but I couldn't resist asking. I knew that his one great love had been the unfortunately-named Fanny Brawne, but I wondered if there had been many others.

"I only ever loved two women, in my human life, and since then only one. Perhaps it is my nature or my fate, but I have found that love only brings me pain."

There really was no response to that, so I said nothing. He was playing with strands of my hair, teasing them out gently with his fingers as if they were some delicate fabric. I reached up to stroke his face, and he turned me in his arms with a swift and effortless movement, so we were face to face. He held my gaze for a brief moment then leant in to kiss me.

My life would be a brief, forgettable episode, compared with his past and future existence, but even so the one thing I would never forget was the way he kissed me. His touch was tender at first, the coolness of his lips soon melting into mine. Then he began to explore my mouth, testing my responses, initially gentle but with increasing force and passion as I responded to him.

The ache I began to feel inside was already familiar to me even after only one night together. It didn't take much for me to lose control of my own body as I began to move my hips over his. The response was immediate and powerful. His hands moved down from my shoulders and found my thighs, pushing my skirt up to my waist. He was on his way to my underwear so I lifted myself up to remove that final barrier before he could rip it off. I didn't fancy walking knicker-less around the streets.

His fingers were quick to find all the right spots to make me moan with delight. I let my head fall back and soaked up the waves of pleasure as they washed over me until they crested and I cried out loudly. My eyes were still closed as he turned his attention to removing the rest of my clothes, which he managed with his usual dexterity. The room seemed to get warmer, and I wondered if that was part of Doreen's spell. If it was, I mentally thanked her for it.

I needed to see him naked too, but my hands were clumsy as I tugged at the buckle of his belt and pulled at his linen shirt. He didn't seem to mind though. The expression on his face was one of pure pleasure as he let me have my way with him. I loved the shimmer of his skin and the tautness of the muscle underneath it. The ravages of illness in his human life were still visible with small scars and marks on his slightly built frame, but even so the underlying power and strength were undeniable.

Perhaps it was that combination which made him so attractive to me; a hint of fragility disguising his true nature, and everything he might be capable of.

I didn't think too hard about the reason, as I set off on my own journey of exploration, tracing the contours of his chest with my kisses. I had the satisfaction of hearing his desire rumbling in his chest as I trailed lower, down to the curls of dark hair in his groin. He was already hard, and seemed to me disproportionately large – not that I had anything to compare with - apart from some of Julian's gay fantasies which I'd glimpsed briefly when my shields were down.

Tentatively I ran my tongue along his length, not quite sure what to expect. He had a faint salty tang which was not at all unpleasant. Feeling bold, I glanced up at him, as if asking permission. His eyes seemed almost black in their intensity, gazing down at me under hooded eyelids. He took my head in his hands and guided me into place, moving me slowly to demonstrate the rhythm he liked.

My instincts quickly took over and I increased my pace, my fingers digging into his perfect behind to pull him closer. Despite his size I was able to accommodate him, and the growls of pleasure indicated that whatever I was doing was just about right as far as he was concerned. His groans became faster and more urgent and I knew that he was close to completion. Breathing in through my nose, I used my tongue and my lips for one final pull, then let him release deep into my throat.

He shuddered with pleasure, then, hooking his hands under my arms, pulled me up to meet him in another kiss. I didn't need to ask if I'd been alright, his kiss told me everything I needed to know. As our bodies moved slowly against each other, I could feel that he was ready again. I gave a little tug on his arm to indicate what I wanted, and he responded as I'd hoped by flipping me onto my back. In an instant, my legs were wrapped tightly around him and he was inside me. There was no holding back as his powerful thrusts filled me, driving every rational thought from my mind.

Instinctively I knew that he wanted to bite me. The odd thing was, I really wanted him to do it. I arched my neck to give him access. His fangs were already fully extended, that seemed to happen as soon as he became aroused. There was a brief sharp sting as he broke my skin, but the pain soon gave way to pleasure as he sucked on my artery. He carried on for a long time, until I began to feel dizzy. He must have sensed that as he pulled away quite suddenly, his whole body becoming still, even though he was buried deep inside me.

"Drink from me Sookie," he whispered with a look of concern. "Take my blood and we will be bound together always."

Afterwards I wondered what instinct had made me agree, but at that moment I nodded my acceptance without a second thought. He bit into his own wrist and held the gaping wound to me mouth. As I sucked he began to move again, harder and faster as if every pull I took was increasing his desire.

We came together, more strongly than before. Everything went black, illuminated only by flashes of golden light, as he pulled his wrist away from my mouth and hugged me so tightly I was worried he might break me in two.

Afterwards I lay in his arms, feeling oddly warm and fuzzy inside. I couldn't imagine a more perfect moment, despite the unconventional setting, and the even more unconventional end to our love-making.

"So do you want to go out, or shall we just stay here and make love all night?" John's voice was low and seductive, making his offer very tempting.

I considered for a few minutes before answering. Despite my new-found passion for raw and primal sex, the idea of going out into the world as if we were a normal couple appealed to me. I had one concern though. "Do you think it will be safe, what if your Master finds us?"

"I do not think that even he would be so brazen, not while you are with me and in a public place."

Okay, I thought, let's just hope you're right about that.

I found a tissue in my handbag and managed to clean myself up while John was dressing. Most humans weren't blessed with the vampire's acute sense of smell, but I didn't want to go out smelling quite so strongly of sex. Even if they didn't notice that, the trails of dried blood would certainly attract attention. I had a hairbrush and some lipstick in my bag as well, so it didn't take long to look reasonably presentable.

John led me out through the dark footpaths of the cemetery, and into the streets of the old village centre. The Victorian street lights, retained for historic effect, weren't a lot brighter but I hooked my arm through his and let him guide me. He'd explained that we were going to the Spaniards Inn, although he still referred to it as the tavern, which made me smile.

"I used to come here in my human life. It was very different then, none of this…" he gestured at the juke-box and the fruit machine in one corner. "Just a serving hatch and a few old wooden tables. The garden was delightful though, I would sit out there sometimes, in the sun, and write."

"I wonder how the beer compares," I asked, then blushed at my tactlessness. I guess he would never know.

For the briefest moment he looked incredibly sad, but the expression soon passed. "I lost the craving for human food and drink when I became vampire. I would no more consider tasting it than you would eat excrement."

_Euch_, I wrinkled my nose up at the thought. He certainly knew how to put a girl off her drink.

To my surprise he extracted a wallet from him pocket, and pulled out a £10 note. That was another thing to be curious about; how did someone who lived in the shadows as he did have access to modern money. I filed it away with the long list of questions I would ask when the time was right.

He bought a bottle of red wine, and two glasses. He poured a large one for me, and a small one for himself. Every now and then he would pick it up and swirl it round, so that anyone who was watching would think he was drinking.

"This is nice," he mused, "being out in the world with you, as if we were a normal couple."

That was what I had thought, I told him, which made him smile. "There's no reason why we can't be, I guess," I continued. "It will be a bit difficult, especially as I'm due back at work in a few days, but I can ask for assignments that don't need early morning starts. There are cellars in the Palace Mews, perhaps you could make somewhere safe to rest." I realised I was gabbling, and perhaps I was rushing things, although considering I'd been willing to drink his blood it seemed reasonable to expect him to be willing to stay at my place.

John seemed pleased. "Yes, that would be possible. I would like that. In fact…" He stopped mid-sentence, his whole body tensing up, "Sookie, we have to get out of here, now."

I was about to point out that I hadn't finished my drink but one look at his face made it clear that was the least of my worries. I shuffled along the bench, only to find my way blocked by a short figure, his face hidden by a wide-brimmed hat.

"Leaving so soon, I was hoping to be introduced." The stranger didn't raise his head, and his voice was low, but there was no doubt he was talking to us.

I gave a nervous giggle. The stranger had the worst cockney accent I'd heard since Dick Van Dyke in 'Mary Poppins'. Behind me I heard John hiss, whether in anger or frustration I couldn't tell.

The man didn't move, but as he raised his head I caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were blood-red and although I couldn't hear his thoughts I had the sensation of pure evil. I realised who he was at about exactly the same moment as he spoke again, addressing John this time.

"As your maker, I command you to release her to me." He'd dropped the mockney accent now, replacing it with pure menace. Slowly John released the tight grip he had on my hand. That was the point when I realised that I was in big trouble. I glanced back at him, but he didn't seem to see me, he just stared blankly ahead.

"Appius Livius Ocella," I spoke his name slowly and carefully, forcing myself to meet the gaze of those terrifying eyes.

John didn't react at all, he seemed quite immobile, as if his master had put him under some kind of spell. Meanwhile the ancient vampire was holding out his hand to me. I felt a faint tingle, and was unable to stop myself from responding. His cold hard fingers closed tightly around mine, and suddenly we were gone.

I think I must have fainted. Certainly everything went black, and I'm not sure anyone could have moved quite so quickly that I couldn't follow the surrounding. All I knew was that I was in a sparsely furnished, window-less room. It contained one, surprisingly comfortable, armchair and that's where I was sitting while a tall and menacing figure paced around; sometimes as slow as a cat stalking its prey, then moving faster than my brain could process. He was doing it to disorientate me, I knew that much about interrogation techniques.

"So, John is considering making another child, is he? I wonder what is so special about you my dear, that he is willing to go against my very specific orders."

I tried to focus on his accent, working out where he was from, as an alternative to collapsing in a panic. Studying accents and speech patterns had become a speciality of mine; his had a hint of his Italian origins, but was not a modern voice. I watched his mouth move, his teeth narrow, and pointed, one or two capped with gold.

"I can assure you I have no intention of become a vampire any time soon," I countered, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"That may not be within your control," he hissed menacingly.

**A/N –I originally had a different idea for who John's makes should be, but FiniteAnarchy suggested that the murderous master vampire should be Eric's maker Appius, and that works really well for a later plot development, so thanks so much for the idea.**

**Apologies for the delay if you were following this story – a combination of holidays and work pressures have meant the remaining chapters took longer than I planned, but I am hoping to post them more regularly now. **


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thanks to everyone who has stuck with the story so far. A story without Eric is pretty much a minority interest so I'm really grateful to the people who are reading it and have given such kind feedback. You may get a reward in the next chapter!**_

Keep calm. Focus. I'd been trained for this and I wasn't going to fall apart like some silly schoolgirl, no matter how terrified I was.

Was there anything John had told me about vampires which could help me now. Calling on all my training for the Service, I tried to stay calm and think. The number one rule for me was to give nothing away, whatever the cost. It may be a cliché, but that doesn't make it untrue: name, rank and serial number, that was all.

The second golden rule was to find and exploit your enemy's weaknesses. That was where my problems started, because I wasn't sure he had any. The one skill I could usually rely on was useless with him. I would just have to try the old fashioned way.

"What exactly do you hope to achieve by all this?"

The creature sitting in the corner of the room lifted his head slowly, so I saw his face for the first time. His eyes were darker now, his hair cut very short with just the hint of a curl in it. Any softness was dispelled by the harsh scars on his face, which must date from his human life. Although he was a short creature, that didn't make him any the less terrifying.

"Poorly played, Miss Stackhouse," his accent was strong, stretching out the 's' sounds in my name in a way which made it sound even more menacing. "Do you really think I would share my plans with a mere human." he paused for a moment, got up and walked towards me very slowly.

It was a measure of his confidence, and the security of wherever it was he had taken me, that I wasn't tied up or restrained in any way. Although the room we were in had no windows, it didn't look like a prison cell. The walls were hung with tapestries, depicting ancient battle scenes. I'd spent the time waiting for him to say or do something examining them, wondering if perhaps there was a familiar face hidden away there. I thought I could detect a figure which resembled my captor, in a scene of a night camp. He stood, almost hidden, brooding in one corner, accompanied by a much taller, blond-haired man. Strange, the things your mind will do to try to retain its sanity.

He stood very close, invading my personal space. He wanted to intimidate me and it had the desired effect. I forced myself to look relaxed, even if I didn't feel it. It would have been all too easy to shrink back down into the armchair, as if the rich red velvet would embrace and protect me.

"I wonder though," he continued his voice low as if we could be overheard, "are you truly human? My child has taken a great risk in consorting with you. I wonder what would make him willing to do that." He wasn't really asking me so I said nothing in response. The issue was clearly vexing him though. "He has given you his blood, I can smell it; bound himself to a human knowing it is something I have expressly forbidden."

His cold hands gripped my face on either side. He didn't need to apply any pressure, the knowledge that he could break my neck with barely an effort was quite enough to keep me still. Crouching down he gazed deep into my eyes. It felt as if he was shooting little darts of energy into my brain and I knew for sure that he was trying to fascinate me. The darts became arrows, causing physical pain and I knew he was very close to being able to pull me under his control.

Should I play along or try to fight back? It was increasingly difficult to control my fear and think straight at the same time.

"So, you can resist my fascination. How strange. Now I do wonder, but there is only one way to be sure."

Before I could react his fangs had run down, and he bit hard into my neck. I screamed out in fear and pain, but mercifully his assault lasted only a few seconds. He pulled away, his eyes blazing with some nameless emotion. A trickle of my blood trailed from the corner of his mouth down his chin but my disgust barely registered as he wiped it with his finger then sucked it off slowly.

"Fae," he said, sounding uncharacteristically puzzled.

I maintained my determination not to give anything away, not even my desperate curiosity to know what on earth he meant.

He prowled the room some more, and now I could feel energy buzzing out of him. It could only be the effect of my blood, and that had me even more terrified. I knew he was perfectly capable of draining me dry just as he had all those other women.

A subtle slowing of his movements alerted me to the impending dawn, and his next words confirmed this.

"I must go to my rest. You, however, will not be going anywhere. We have much to discuss this coming night."

Despite his horror-movie theatrics, my main concern now was much more prosaic. "Do you have a bathroom?" I asked, feeling both stupid and uncomfortable.

He stared at me, taking several moments to comprehend what I was talking about. Before locking the door with heavy bolts top and bottom, he threw an old metal bucket at my feet. Then he was gone without another word. After waiting until I was sure he wouldn't be coming back, I checked out the room. There was no way out except the door which I knew was locked and bolted. I'd dropped my handbag, probably back in the Pub, but there probably wouldn't have been mobile phone reception down here even if I had it.

Eventually I gave up, curled up in the armchair and tried to get comfortable. I had ten or eleven hours till nightfall so maybe I could get some sleep – it would help if I could keep my wits about me. The trouble was that one word, 'Fae' kept turning itself over and over in my mind. I knew it was an old name for the fairy people. My Gran used to tell me stories about them when I was a little girl. She had always made their exploits sound so real, but at the time I just assumed it was because she was such a good story-teller. Now I felt very differently.

Images of water nymphs and tree fairies danced through my head, like some crazy Arthur Rackham fantasy as I finally managed to drift off to sleep. I was woken by the sound of the bolts crashing open, and had only a few seconds to prepare myself for a further night's ordeal. I was dizzy with thirst, hunger and fear; the room span for a few moments as I pulled myself to an upright position.

Did John have any idea where I was? Did he and his allies have any way of reaching me? I wasn't filled with confidence. I tried to relax and ignore the hunger pangs and dry throat. I could dimly feel something, a sort of tingle deep in my chest, as if something or someone was trying to make contact with me. It was so faint I wondered if hunger and thirst was making me imagine it. Even if it was real, I had no idea how to react to it.

Appius had a particularly malevolent expression as he entered the room. "You will be pleased to know I have decided not to kill you quickly," he said, which naturally had quite the opposite effect on me.

"Your blood is too fine, it deserves to be savoured; in fact I intend to start my evening with a little taste."

Once again he was on me before I had time to prepare for the shock, his fangs latching into my neck. I really, really tried not to scream. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but the pain was so intense that I couldn't supress a whimper of distress. Mercifully, the ordeal didn't last long, but I was fairly certain that was only so he could come back for more, later.

What was almost as bad as the physical pain was how badly I wanted to know what he had meant when he called me 'Fae'. Naturally I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of asking. Would he have that urge to talk which in the end gave most humans away under interrogation. I could only wait.

Sitting there in silence was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. One thought was nagging at my brain: how long. It's a basic human instinct, especially in the face of a slow but inevitable death. How long have I got? There was nothing I could do with the information. I couldn't settle my affairs, or say goodbye to my friends and family. That wouldn't have taken long of course, having only my brother Jason, my good friend Julian and my lover John – the one who'd got me into this mess.

"If you're going to drain me, the least you can do is explain why," I challenged, unable to stand the suspense any longer.

Appius narrowed his eyes. He shrugged and his mouth twisted into a particularly unpleasant sneer. I don't think I'd ever disliked anyone quite so much, and I felt quite sorry for John, having this particular vampire as the one who'd made him.

"Who knows, I may change my mind," he taunted. "Perhaps I should make you vampire. True you are only a woman, but you are very special. But then, making you vampire would probably destroy your powers, and render you useless to me." He started pacing again. I'd worked out that this was a 'tell', an indication that he was concerned or uncertain about something.

I should probably have kept quiet, but like the fabled cat, curiosity got the better of me. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I don't have any powers."

"Really," he replied sounding very dubious. "You expect me to believe that. I know who you work for, and I know that you were sent on a mission to find me. Your colleagues have degrees from the finest universities in the world, yet they give an uneducated woman like you a leading role." He gave the distinct impression that being a woman was the almost as great a reason for his surprise as my inadequate educational background.

I had no idea how he knew about my telepathy, or even whether he knew, but even so I experienced that sinking feeling you get when you are caught out in a lie. It didn't help that my stomach was starting to rumble loudly. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything for what must be twenty-four hours. Appius looked at me in the way a human might regard an unfamiliar animal, not quite sure what to make of its behaviour.

"I need food, and drink, if you don't want me to die on you anyway."

"What do you eat?"

"Anything, as long as it's cooked; and I must have water."

He swept out of the room without a further word, closing the bolts loudly behind him. I was sure he did that just for effect, to remind me of my captivity. I'd noticed that my hearing was more sensitive so I listened carefully to the sound of his footsteps. I was pretty certain he was walking up stairs. I counted thirty steps until the sound faded away with a very faint click which could have been a door opening. Two flights underground then. I didn't know London well enough to be able to work out what building might have such deep cellars.

Focussing hard, I tried to visualise John, wondering if his vampire powers could alert him to my location. Once again I experienced that odd tingling feeling in my chest, but all it did was make me feel even more worried, as if my own fears were being reinforced by another's.

Despite my ravenous hunger I forced myself to remain alert for Appius' return. He didn't take that long. In the silence I easily detected the sound of the door opening, and counted as he descended the same thirty steps. He was clutching a Tesco plastic carrier bag, a sight so incongruous I had to supress a laugh. I wondered if he'd paid for his shopping, stolen it, or just fascinated the cashier to handing it over.

He extracted a pack of sausage rolls, an individual pork pie, a bag of crisps and some apples. Not exactly a balanced diet, but I would have eaten almost anything. Except liver, I drew the line at offal. I forced it down hungrily, accompanied by some bottled mineral water. The vampire watched me with a faint expression of disgust.

"How can you humans eat dead things like this?" he asked, as if I was the one whose culinary habits were unusual.

I ignored him, intent on my ill-assorted buffet. It's unlikely there is anything which could humanise a vampire so old and so evil as Appius, but the act of going out and getting food for me somehow made him seem less scary.

"Do you really think that you can stand against the forces of history?" I asked, feeling bolder after I'd eaten. "This revelation is going to happen whether you want it to or not."

"I am not the only one who feels this way. There are many of us who believe we should stay hidden in the shadows. We are not all motivated by the lust for material things."

"It's not just about lust though, is it? Not everyone wants to live a shadow life, hiding their true nature."

He snorted at that, and with one of those terrifying vampire bursts of speed was across the room and next to me, gripping my upper arm much more tightly than was comfortable or necessary.

"This is our true nature. My child John may try to hide it from you but do not let yourself be deceived. Vampires and humans can never live together as equals; it is foolish even to attempt it. I will kill you and I will kill him rather than let him pursue this foolishness again."

'_No_.' The word echoed around my head before I spoke it out loud. I wanted John, wanted our relationship to work, and I wasn't going to let this creature stop me. I felt the anger rising in me; a physical force like electricity surging around my body. Pointing at Appius, I shouted, "You're wrong. It can work and it will, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. "

Without warning a current of bright blue light shot out from my fingers in the direction I was pointing – straight at Appius. The force sent him crashing into the wall. He was winded but only briefly. I was so shocked I couldn't move and he only took a moment to recover himself. Taking a deep breath I focussed on my anger and raised both hands to point at him. Perhaps it was because my action was deliberate but this time the force crumpled him up on the floor and I made a run for the door.

It was a measure of his arrogance that he hadn't locked it after him. I seemed to have superhuman speed as I sprinted up the stairs to the top. It took me a few moments to recognise where I was. I could hardly believe how bold he was, his secret lair was right in the heart of the West End, where international companies had their headquarters and international Ambassadors and diplomatic staff lived.

I ran as fast as I could in the direction of light and traffic noise. I could sense that Appius was on his feet and after me – I have no idea how, but I just could – so I was going to rely on good, old fashioned, screaming for help.

Before I could do anything, I heard a car screech to a halt behind me. The door was flung open and I was roughly bundled into the back.

"Thank God," Julian's melodious voice was the most welcome sound I had heard in a long time.

"How did you find me?"

"I've been trying to contact you for the last two days to arrange your return to work. I knew you wouldn't have gone AWOL, so it stood to reason that something bad had happened. We activated your tracker."

All agents had a tracking device which they had to wear at all times in case anything happened. Mine had been fitted into an antique gold ring my Gran had left me. She didn't have many treasures so this was one I was never without.

"You took your time," I protested grumpily.

Julian looked murderous. "The only time I've left this car in the last two days has been to have a piss. We knew you were somewhere nearby but the exact location was scrambled somehow. Honestly Sookie, if you knew how worried I've been."

"I'm sorry," I said, weakly, his words had the desired effect of making me feel guilty at putting him to all this trouble. If I wasn't careful my career in the Service would be over.

"I know you must be feeling like shit, but I have to debrief you tonight. You'll need to come to HQ with me." Julian sounded genuinely concerned for my welfare but we both knew this was the drill and I certainly wasn't going to argue.

Actually, I didn't feel too bad, considering my ordeal. I was feeling quite proud of myself for escaping from Appius, while at the same time not quite understanding how I'd done it. What I really wanted was to be able to contact John and let him know that I was okay, but I had to do it without giving away his involvement. Swallowing hard I tried to keep my voice steady. "Has anyone been asking after me?"

"Anyone like whom?" Julian replied, sounding completely innocent, but I picked up a clear image of John from his mind. I hadn't realised till then how jealous he was of my relationship. Julian was a great one for experimentation and it obviously pissed him off big time that I was the one to have a relationship with a vampire.

"Don't play games," I snapped back at him, "you know perfectly well who I'm talking about."

A faint trace of guilt washed over his face. "I did get a call. It was a man, and he didn't give his name, but he asked if I'd seen you recently."

This was a conversation I really didn't want to continue, fearful of losing my temper and saying something I'd regret, so I took the easy way out and listened to Julian's thoughts. He winced, recognising by now the signs of what I was doing, but he made no effort to block his thoughts. I guess it made it easier to tell me he was sorry.

"I'd like to call him, if it's okay with you, to let him know I'm alright."

Julian held out his phone. "I think he's got your mobile," he explained, "that's the number he called me from."

John obviously kept up to date with the modern world if he'd managed to find Julian's number on the speed dial, unless it was just a lucky guess. I wondered if he would be able to retrieve a voice-mail message as well.

Any traces of sympathy had disappeared from Julian's expression and his voice by the time I'd left my message and switched off the phone.

"There's only one reason I can think of for you to disappear like that – would it have anything to do with you trying to track down a murderer?" he asked, coldly.

"Yes…no…not exactly," I stammered in response.

"You're lucky not to be on report again. What on earth made you decide to go freelance, after everything that's happened?"

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "I did nothing of the sort," I lied. "I was out with John when that monster kidnapped me."

Julian looked puzzled for a few moments; then his expression turned to suspicion. "You do think that that he's our murderer though."

"I think if London were crawling with Vampire serial killers, someone might have mentioned it, don't you? Besides, he virtually admitted it to me. He's not happy with the way things are going, and he's determined to put a stop to it."

"If you're right, he'll probably come after you again," Julian stated the obvious. "You need to protect yourself."

I mulled that over for a while. Daylight hours obviously weren't a risk, but night-time was, and the events of the past few days had made it clear that John was powerless to help me.

"Once I get you home, you mustn't let anyone in; not even your boyfriend." Julian looked deadly serious.

I couldn't begin to imagine how furious Appius was going to be that I'd escaped his clutches. He was certain to come after me; and I knew I had to focus on how to protect myself against him.

If he'd been human I wouldn't have worried. The security clearance you needed to get into the Palace Mews had to be seen to be believed, but John had managed it easily – the Lifeguards weren't immune to his fascination, and they would be easy for Appius to control. At least I could control which vampire I let into my own house, and which I didn't. I had to hope that would keep me safe.


	9. Chapter 9

The silence in my little house was oppressive. I'd tried listening to the radio, flicking through the stations: pounding techno-house-garage; the old fashioned sounds of the mighty Wurlitzer organ from the Blackpool Tower Ballroom; screeching German Opera, and finally a very serious discussion on whether the Millennium Bug was a serious threat or a conspiracy theory cooked up by the IT industry. None of them suited my mood so I switched it off.

I didn't dare get too close to the windows. Appius couldn't enter the house without an invitation, but perhaps he had the power to force me outside. Julian had tried to persuade me to come into HQ or go to a safe house, but I wasn't sure there was such a place. My own house was probably the safest place; at least I could control who came in.

By rights I should have been exhausted after my ordeal, but nervous tension kept me awake. I lay down on the sofa and tried to relax the way my Gran had taught me when I was a teenager. She'd shown me how to tense and relax every part of my body, working from the toes right up to the face and back down again. Gradually I became more aware of the sensations in my own body and, more specifically, the sensations which weren't mine. They began with the faint tingling feelings I'd experienced in my captivity. Concentrating, I let the unfamiliar feelings take control of my body, experiencing a powerful emotion of fear combined with guilt.

The fear I could own, but the guilt was definitely not mine. Hearing people's thoughts was one thing, but feeling someone else's emotions was more disconcerting than I could ever have imagined. I was jolted back to reality by the sound of the phone. I picked up the receiver warily, as if it might be hot to the touch.

"Sookie?"

It was a shock to hear John's voice on the other end of the line. Somehow it seemed too modern and normal for a two-hundred year old vampire.

"Are you there?" he asked, "I can hear you breathing."

Well of course he could, even a human would have heard me exhale a long surprised breath, not sure what to say to him. Luckily he took the decision out of my hands as he continued.

"I am so very sorry about what has happened to you. I know you are safe now, I can feel it, just as I felt every moment of your terror. I will never forgive myself for my arrogance, thinking I could keep you safe." He sounded genuinely contrite.

"It's not your fault," although even as I said it I wasn't entirely convinced of the truth of the statement. I couldn't help that a part of me thought that he should have anticipated what might happen, but equally I couldn't bring myself to hate him for it.

"Are you outside?" I was sure it was his emotions I could feel, although I had no idea how.

"Yes, but…"

"I know," I cut him off abruptly. He'd been going to tell me that Appius was out there, somewhere in the dark but I already knew that. "I'll try to find a safe place for us to meet tomorrow night. Keep my phone and I'll send you a text message." I put the phone down, unsure of what else to say, and worried that Appius might somehow be listening. I could sense his presence, not close, but close enough. I made sure all the windows were locked and closed the curtains tightly before going to bed.

* * *

><p>Julian sent a car for me late the next morning. I'd got dressed in my best suit in anticipation, and fixed my hair into a neat French plait. The marks left by Appius' bites had faded more than I expected, but I chose a blouse with a high collar, and a thick rope of pearls (fake of course). A touch of lipstick, black patent court shoes and I looked every inch the professional.<p>

Naturally he wanted a full run-down of exactly what had happened, and I mainly told him the truth. The only thing I couldn't bring myself to confess was that I'd known there was a risk that Appius would come after me. In my version, my visits to John were purely social and I'd had no warning that his evil master had me in his sights.

"It seems you know as much as I do," he said, when I'd finished my story. "I don't think there is anything this Appius can do to stop the revelation though, plans are too far advanced. That's what the US delegation is here to discuss."

I swore under my breath. I'd forgotten that the meeting with the Americans was tonight, and if it didn't start till eight, the chances are it would go on well after midnight. So much for my plan to find a safe place to meet with John.

"Will there be any English vampires at this meeting?"

"Yes," Julian sounded smug, "you'll probably be surprised to find out who they are."

I didn't think I would be, but it did give me an idea. "Would it be possible to invite John? He's still got my phone, so I could send him a message and you could send a car to pick him up. I'm sure the Americans would be impressed to meet him."

He considered the idea and agreed to ask permission. Meanwhile it was time for me to think about going back to work. So much had happened in the few days since my enforced layoff that I had trouble remembering what cases I'd been working on.

The pile of messages I had to deal with soon got me back into work mode. I had to endure some very strange looks from the other junior agents who I shared an office with. Of course, I had no idea what story they'd been told to explain my absence, but whatever the official version, you could bet that the rumours and gossip had been much more juicy and exaggerated.

Amy, my secretarial assistant, was pleased to see me and that made me feel a whole lot better. She'd always been an ally in a male-dominated office and I think she'd missed me as much as I'd missed her. My heart sank though when she unlocked her filing cabinet and handed me an overflowing in-tray, and a scarily full looking calendar.

The run up to the new millennium was bringing all sorts of lunatics out of the woodwork. There were numerous blackmail plots linked to the millennium bug; a group of anarchists were threatening to bring down the international banking system; the usual assortment of religious fanatics were planning mass suicides, or worse. Somehow we had to sort the wheat from the chaff and work out which, if any, posed a real threat. I had two or three interviews a day scheduled in, starting tomorrow, and needed to be fully briefed before I went in.

The afternoon passed quickly. I took a break while it was still light to get some fresh air and buy myself a sandwich and a diet Coke. I was expecting a long night and didn't want to go into it on an empty stomach.

* * *

><p>At MI5 you can judge how serious the topic of a conference is and how important the participants are by the quality of the refreshments. The most urgent meetings only get coffee, but anything of major strategic important justifies tea, coffee, juice and canapés. This conference clearly fell into the 'major strategic importance' category if the quality of the canapés was anything to go by.<p>

What did catch my eye were the carafes containing a red liquid. It was too dark for wine, and anyway alcohol had been a no-no at meetings for several years now. Julian must have noticed my interest as he sidled up to me and whispered in my ear, "blood."

I must have gagged as he laughed and patted me on the arm, "Don't worry, it's not real. The Japanese have developed synthetic blood, it's the new wonder substance and it's what makes all this possible."

We took our seats and waited. There was a flurry of activity at the door, and two familiar English vampires entered. Julian glanced at me to see my reaction. I don't think he was expecting me to nod my acknowledgement, and neither of us was expecting the warm smile I got from Wallis in return. She came over and placed a cold hand on my shoulder.

"I understand you were very brave, my dear, well done." Her clipped accent was straight out of a period movie but her tone was kind, and I thanked her with a smile. She and Edward took their seats at the top of the table, flanked on one side by Sir Stephen Lander, head of the service, and on the other by Sir Robin Janvrin, Queen Elizabeth's Private Secretary. The presence of the two most senior mandarins indicated that someone had decided it was appropriate to observe royal protocol.

Wallis and Edward's interest in me had got both men's attention and one then the other gave me the once-over in that superior way that Oxbridge educated, upper class men all seemed to have – well except Julian, but he always was different. Sir Stephen knew why I was there, being one of the limited number of people who had been told about my unusual talent, but the other man was wondering what on earth a girl like me was doing in the room. I glared at him briefly, just for long enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

The sound of stiletto heels clacking down the corridor outside got everyone's attention and all eyes were focussed on the door as the American delegation swept in. I'd had dealings with US agents before and they all seemed to be bigger and shinier than their UK counterparts. Most of my colleagues made a virtue of dressing down, blending in to go about their business unnoticed. The Americans were the complete opposite in their sharp suits. Some of them even wore sun-glasses even though it was night time and we were indoors.

At the head of their group was a tall, blonde, hard-faced woman. Her hair was pulled back away from her face exaggerating her cheekbones. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, but as she was a vampire, who could tell her true age.

Sir Robin and Sir Stephen both rose to greet her, offering their hands, which she pointedly ignored. Edward and Wallis remained seated and, as if to emphasise their superiority, gave only a brief nods of acknowledgement. The woman didn't smile, and I would have given anything to know what was going through her mind right then.

She was followed by six men, all human. Since it was my job to check them out I had no hesitation in listening to their thoughts. There was nothing remarkable though. One of the men was thinking what a ball-breaking bitch Nan was and how one day he was going to tell her to her face. I expect hell to freeze over before he dared.

Another was mentally sneering at the two upper class Englishmen, foolishly deciding that their plummy accents were a sign of stupidity, when nothing could be further from the truth. Another guy had noticed me and was torn between wondering what I was doing there and imagining what I'd look like out of my suit.

Before I could react the final member of the party sauntered into the room. Unlike the others he'd made no effort to dress up. He was wearing jeans, although I suspected from the cut that they were very expensive jeans. They were combined with a black vest and a short black leather jacket which hugged his waist and was padded at the shoulders reminding me of a suit of armour. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place it.

"Armani," I heard Julian breathe in admiration. I assumed he was referring to the clothes and not to the man, or rather to the vampire.

He stood a good six inches taller than anyone else, and was stunningly handsome with long blond hair, chiselled cheekbones, and full, sensuous lips. Anyone looking for a new superhero character wouldn't need to look any further. It wasn't those physical characteristics which marked him out as a vampire though. He had that faint glow with which I was now familiar and his mind, when I tried to probe it, was a blank.

He scanned the room quickly and found what he was looking for. As I tested out the boundaries his eyes met mine and they were full of challenge. I returned his gaze evenly, acknowledging that I knew that he knew, but showing no reaction.

It was hard to tear my eyes away, but I managed it as he took a seat at the far end of the table. Instead I focussed on the humans. My brief was to check out if what they were thinking matched what they, and their vampire companions, were saying.

The Americans were confident that they were fully prepared for the revelation to take place, but they wanted more support from Europe. The human authorities had warned them that they wouldn't allow an influx of vampire refugees if other countries proved hostile. The British government was on board – they wouldn't do anything to jeopardise the so-called special relationship which meant so much to the Prime Minister. It was a good thing he didn't know what the Americans really thought of that.

All the Scandinavian countries were signed up; which wasn't much of a surprise with their reputation for liberal tolerance. Germany was unenthusiastic but unwilling to appear intolerant. The problems were in the southern European countries with their strong Catholic traditions.

As far as I could tell there was no hidden agenda. I found it hard to pay attention, instead wondering where John was and whether I would see him tonight. The tall blond vampire didn't seem to be paying much attention either. Every time I found myself looking in his direction, he would be gazing into the near distance, usually always in my direction, watching me but making sure it wasn't obvious. There was a carefully cultivated air of boredom in his expression, as if the subject of the discussion was beneath him. It made me wonder what he was doing there.

He cornered me later as the meeting broke for coffee. "Miss…Stackhouse" he looked down to read my name badge. I was glad I had my blouse buttoned up high. "You know me?"

"I know you are vampire." I didn't give any further explanation and he didn't ask. Instead he leant down, bringing his cool lips close to my ear.

"And I know that you are not fully human. What were you trying to do earlier?"

"I'm sure you'll find out later, if you need to know."

"I'm sure I will. Believe me, I do need to know."

Reading that exchange it could sound as if our conversation was quite business-like, but his tone took it to a different level, and not one I felt comfortable with. I wished that John was there; I would have felt a lot safer with him at my side.

The American vampire was standing far too close for comfort, and the subtle twitch of his nose suggested that he was smelling me. I glanced around the room. The female vampire, Nan Flanagan, gave us the occasional surreptitious glance, and she didn't look happy. Everyone else seemed to be engrossed in their conversations.

To my relief John chose that moment to make his entrance. He spotted me immediately and was at my side in seconds, pausing only to formally acknowledge his king and queen. Stepping in close, he casually dropped his hand onto the small of my back in a gesture of possession.

I thought for a moment that the American vampire was going to hiss or spit at him. They glared at each other, both tensed up like two dogs about to fight.

"This woman is yours?" the blond American asked in a low voice.

"Yes," John's response was equally quiet, but firm nevertheless.

There was obviously some kind of vampire etiquette in place as the American took an almost imperceptible step away from me, just far enough to get out of my personal space. He continued to stare down at John, who matched him with an unblinking gaze even though he had to tilt his head up to do so. They didn't seem to be aware of my presence any more.

"Name your maker, vampire," the American demanded. His expression darkened as John replied; for a few seconds he looked to be experiencing physical pain.

"That monster; I had hoped never to see him again. Is he here, in London?"

I looked from one to the other, but neither of them seemed to notice me. Their gazes remained locked, but it was no longer a stand-off between two potential enemies or rivals, instead they seemed to be sharing some hidden message.

Nan Flanagan had noticed and was no longer paying any attention to Sir Robin. I instinctively knew that neither vampire would welcome her interest so in an effort to distract her I left the two men and walked across the room.

Sir Robin acknowledged me, "Miss Flanagan, may I introduce Miss Sookie Stackhouse, she is one of our most valued operatives."

I didn't need to be able to read her thoughts to know that she wasn't impressed.

"I understand you're quite the little heroine," she said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Not really, I was just doing my job," I replied, ignoring the fact that my encounter with Appius had been strictly off-piste. She didn't need to know that.

"We need to neutralise the threat this rogue vampire poses," she turned her attention back to Sir Robin. "I expect your Service to arrange this. We travel to Brussels tomorrow night; and from there to Moscow and on to Rome and Madrid. We return to London in two weeks and I expect matters to be sorted by then."

I had to supress a smile as Sir Robin thought what a grade-A bitch she was, even while he was smiling and reassuring her that she had nothing to worry about. She didn't look convinced, but obviously decided that there was nothing further to be gained from the encounter. She turned away without a word and stalked over to where Edward and Wallis were sitting. I don't know if Nan was the Queen of America, but even if she was, she still had to acknowledge British vampire royalty. She made an awkward little curtsey then bent over to kiss Wallis on both cheeks in the French style.

John and the American vampire were still deep in conversation, their body language making it clear that it was not small talk. Whatever the topic it was deadly serious. I tried not to make my interest obvious, although I was desperately trying to place the tall blond.

Most of the conversations in the room focussed on Edward and Wallis. Nan Flanagan was different, her eyes darted everywhere, taking in everything, and probably listening in as well. After an hour or so, it was clear that she had either lost interest or gathered all the information she felt she needed, her shoulders slumped and her eyes seemed to glaze over.

"Come," she ordered her entourage brusquely, and the human contingent followed her out of the room. The tall blond vampire hung behind, still deep in conversation with my lover.

"Northman, we're leaving," she barked.

He glared at her with narrowed eyes, making it obvious that he did not appreciate being ordered around, but nevertheless he followed her out of the room, only pausing to give me a cheeky wink accompanied by a brilliant smile. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Julian shaking his head. I hoped he wasn't jealous.

Most of my colleagues finished their drinks and followed them out of the room. It was nearly midnight and I could sense their tiredness after a long day. By rights I should have been exhausted too but I wanted to spend some time with John. I kicked off my shoes and shrugged off my jacket, settling myself in the fancy leather chair which had been set aside for Queen Wallis.

"We could get a late drink if you like, Sookie," Julian offered. He probably meant one of the gay bars up in Soho. Normally I had no problem going with him, but tonight I had other things on my mind and I declined his offer.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, bending to kiss me goodnight. "I'll let security know you'll be here for a while," he smirked, looking at my vampire lover who was leaning against a wall on the other side of the room.

John's smile was predatory as he crossed the floor at an unusually slow, almost human, pace. I put a finger to my lips to try to warn him that the room was fitted with recording equipment.

"Mmm, I have missed you," he whispered in my ear as he inhaled my scent. "I was so worried."

I really didn't want to talk about what had happened, for many reasons, so I turned my face to his and lifted myself up to kiss him.

"We won't be caught out again," he murmured as he broke the kiss. "You may not realise it, but from now on you will be watched by many pairs of vampire eyes. Edward has ordered every vampire in the entire south of England to devote themselves to protecting you. Appius may be powerful, but he is not strong enough to survive a challenge from many vampires at one time.

I hoped he was right this time, but for now I didn't want to think about it. "Who was the vampire you were talking to?" I asked, changing the subject.

John knew immediately who I was talking about. "Eric Northman, he is also one of Appius' children. I believe he is one of the oldest still in existence."

"So he's kind of your brother then?" I snorted, the idea seeming quite bizarre.

John's expression remained serious though, "Yes," he affirmed. "Vampires who share a maker have an affinity. The same blood runs within our veins after all."

"How old is he?" I would have guessed late twenties or maybe early thirties in human years, but as a vampire he could have existed for hundreds of years. I wasn't prepared for John's answer though and I suspect my mouth must have hung open briefly when he told me that his brother had been a Viking in his human life and was over a thousand years old.

"Wow," was all I could say.

"He is powerful and strong, but he doesn't like to play by the rules. I was surprised to see him taking such a role in vampire politics."

That was the message I'd got as well. Everything about him screamed 'maverick' yet he was part of a high profile delegation.

"I suspect they are using him for his contacts. He was well recognised in our community even when I was turned. He knows most of the older vampires who are still in existence. This gives him a certain status and respect, despite his weaknesses."

"Weaknesses?" I was surprised, the tall blond vampire had seemed anything but weak to me.

"As I said, he has no tolerance for protocol. If he did he wouldn't surely have become a king himself many centuries ago. He has a reputation for arrogance and pride, even among vampires, who all share these traits to some extent."

None of those things surprised me at all. "So you don't like him then?" I asked.

"We are very different. He is a fighter and I am a poet, but even so there is a bond between us, and a shared hatred of our maker." His reply was bitter, revealing the depth of his feelings.

"Talking of Appius, he's not going to be happy that I escaped from him. I'm worried now that he'll take it out on you as well as me." It was a fear that had been building in me all day. The more I thought about Appius and how evil he was, the more concerned I became about exactly what he might be capable of.

John was silent for a few moments, which convinced me that he had been thinking exactly the same thing. A flicker of concern crossed his normally impassive face. He was trying to hide it, but his fears were as strong as mine. "I have abandoned my resting place," he confirmed, "for the last two nights I have moved from place to place but I can sense his presence near me."

It was my worst fear. I would not spend my life on the run, constantly looking over my shoulder. Something had to be done, but John and I needed some time together to plan. Gradually an idea formed in my mind. "We need to speak to Julian, have you got my mobile?"

John extracted my mobile phone from his jacket pocket and I pressed the speed dial number. Julian was in a very noisy bar and I could hardly hear him, but I managed to make out the name and shouted that we would be there in fifteen minutes and he was not to go away.


	10. Chapter 10

I decided against calling for a Service car to make the journey east to unfashionable Clerkenwell on the basis that our destination would not look good on an expenses claim. Despite its location, Trade was the hippest gay bar of the moment so naturally it was heaving, packed out with a late night party crowd. I spotted Julian across the bar, talking to a handsome young man in leathers, his usual type. John turned plenty of heads as we pushed our way through, while I picked lots of nasty thoughts about how fag hags were ruining the atmosphere.

"Byron would have loved it here," he whispered to me with a grin.

Julian quickly swopped phone numbers with his new friend, then followed us outside round the back to where the bins were stored. I opened my mouth to speak, but John beat me to it.

"I need to take Sookie away for a few days, she has done enough, put her life at risk for us, it is too much to expect."

"It's out of the question, we have a fortnight to find this vampire and neutralise the threat, Sookie is needed here."

My lover and my best friend were arguing about what was best for me as if I wasn't even there with them.

"Do I get a say?" I asked, with a sarcastic snort.

I thought for a moment they were both going to say 'no', but their mouths opened and closed without uttering a word.

I took the opportunity to dive in with my point of view. "Could I maybe just take a long weekend, I could do with getting out of the city for a few days. I'll be back on Tuesday; that will still give us time." I knew exactly what I wanted to do. "John can take me back to the Forest."

The old house where I'd lived with Gran had been tied to Granddad's job, just as Mum and Dad's had been. I'd heard that both cottages been converted for holiday rentals, which would at least mean that they now had proper heating, running water that didn't turn brown when it rained too hard, and electrical systems which didn't give you a shock every time you connected a plug. Out of season, there was a good chance they would be available.

Julian pursed his lips. He wasn't happy with me being out of town, but he acknowledged that I needed a break, away from everything. Reluctantly he agreed, but not before making it clear that if John didn't keep me safe he would personally stake him. He even promised to cover for me at work – he would take my place in the interrogation room for the next few days and come up with some plausible explanation for my absence.

John dropped me safely home, then disappeared in the night, assuring me that he had a safe place to rest and would call for me soon after nightfall the next day.

It took a few phone calls the next day, and a bit of persuasion, to book the cottage at such short notice. Once that was done, I went back to bed. I wanted to shift to vampire time to make the most of the hours we would have together. By the time I woke it was fully dark. I regained consciousness just a couple of minutes before I heard John outside, so that left just enough time to throw together a bag of warm clothes and then we were on our way. Driving at night the M4 wouldn't be busy and I was confident we could make the four-hour journey well before dawn. Julian was obviously feeling guilty about his attitude the previous night as he'd agreed to lend me the second-hand Aston Martin that was his pride and joy. It was pretty scary at first, driving such a powerful car, but it didn't take long for me to remember my childhood James Bond fantasies. I just hoped I didn't get a speeding ticket as that would really piss Julian off.

We made it in record time, and I coaxed the suspension carefully over the rutted old forest tracks leading to what I still thought of as my cottage.

It's an odd sensation, seeing something once so familiar now look so different. The pair of cottages had been re-roofed and had matching new front doors, painted dark green. The windows looked new as well, which I wasn't sorry to see. They'd been rotting badly when I left and it wasn't unknown to wake up in the morning with the distinctive silver trail of a slug or snail across the blankets.

Inside they had the kind of identikit décor that someone had decided was appropriate for an English country cottage – lots of chintz and clashing floral patterns on the curtains, carpet and three piece suite. It had central heating now, a real bonus in my book, although they had retained the huge old Aga stove in the kitchen. I fancied I could still smell my Gran's home-made bread even though it wasn't possible.

There were still a few hours before dawn, and I won't deny that I was hoping for a passionate reunion with my vampire lover. John, however, had other ideas. After a careful check that the cellar was indeed light tight, he asked me to walk with him in the forest.

I hesitated briefly. As a child I'd been scared of the dark. One day I had wandered off alone and got hopelessly lost in the forest tracks. Mum and Dad had still been alive then, and he'd called on several workmates to help him search for me. When he finally found me, sheltering in the hollow of a tree, he gave me the worst beating of my life. To be fair it was the only time he ever raised a hand to me, and I forgave him, as I knew from his thoughts that it was only because he'd been so worried that something terrible had happened to me.

My recent terrifying experience had left its mark. I thought I'd recovered well, but as we walked down the path and out of the gate, even John's presence and his tight grip on my hand wasn't enough to prevent me seizing up inside. He must have sensed it as he transferred his grip to slip an arm around my waist, holding me even closer to him.

"Don't worry, I'd know if he was near," he said, addressing my unspoken fears. My head told me that his protection might not be enough, but his quiet determination reassured me.

"Can you feel it?" John asked, as we walked hand in hand amongst the trees. It was a cloudless night and a waxing moon gave just enough light to see. Nevertheless I would have tripped several times over old tree roots if his perfect vision hadn't guided me around the obstacles.

There was something odd in the air, something that brought back childhood memories which I'd never really understood. "I can feel something, but I don't know what," I confirmed.

"It's the old magic. It's been driven out of most parts of the country but there are places where it still lingers."

"Really," I didn't sound surprised any more. I was gradually coming to terms with the idea that there were many things in the world that most humans had no idea existed.

"Yes. In isolated places like this the last few fairy people live; there are other creatures too, nymphs, sprites, elves as well, although they are very hard to spot."

It was all getting a little too Disney for me, but there was one creature he mentioned which did spark my interest, reminding me of something Appius had said. "Have you ever met a Fairy?" I asked.

John gave me an odd half-smile. "My maker has a certain…" he paused to think of the right word, "…obsession with fairies. He kept one captive for several years. That was in India, soon after he made me. We needed to be out of Europe for a while."

I can't say I was very interested in his travels, but Appius' interest in fairies made me shudder, even though I didn't understand why. I had to know what had happened to the creature, although I didn't expect to like the answer. Sure enough John confirmed my fears.

"He drank from her regularly," he explained. "The blood seemed to give him additional strength. He could even tolerate the daylight, only at dusk and dawn, never in full sun, but it gave him a freedom denied to other vampires and that was something he relished."

"What happened to her?" I was pretty certain the story wouldn't have a happy ending, and naturally I was right.

"Eventually he took too much blood, she just wasted away. He couldn't seem to stop himself, he needed more and more."

I knew without having to ask that would have been my fate if I hadn't escaped. John must have felt my fear as he slipped his arm back around my waist and pulled me back into his tight embrace.

"It won't happen again," he tried to sound reassuring; "you will have better protection in future, and besides you know what to expect now."

"He called me Fae, you know."

John looked at me oddly. "Of course. Surely you have wondered what it is that makes you different, what gives you your talent. Did your Grandmother never explain this to you?"

I shook my head. I was convinced now that she had known, but for some reason had chosen not to share it with me. Perhaps she'd thought I wasn't ready, but before the time came she was taken from me.

John hadn't finished though, "Have you not considered how strange it was that you, a mere human, could defend yourself against one of the most powerful vampires in existence? He could have killed you with the merest flick of his wrist and yet from somewhere you summoned the power to fend him off. You must surely recognise that this sets you apart."

Of course I had; not at first when I was so overcome with the shock of first my capture and then my escape that I couldn't even process what had happened. Afterwards I had gone over and over it in my mind; trying to make sense of the experience. I'd even spent a few hours walking in an isolated part of the Palace gardens trying to recreate the incredible power and energy I'd felt, but without success.

I knew this wasn't the last talk we would have on the subject, but it was now less that two hours until dawn and I was in the mood for some vampire loving before John had to disappear for the day. I nuzzled his neck, and then turned my face to kiss him. It didn't take long to get him into a loving kind of mood. He picked me up effortlessly and in what seemed like only seconds we were back at the cottage, up the stairs and into the bedroom.

With so little time, we had sex with a wild uninhibited, clothes-tearing passion which seemed very out of character for my sensitive poet. Believe me, it's something I could get used to, even though I expected to be stiff and sore for most of the next day.

* * *

><p>Surprisingly when I woke up I wasn't, although I slept for so long that my body had plenty of recovery time. By the time I got up I had just enough time to drive to the nearest supermarket and get some supplies before nightfall. I had to force myself to drive carefully, sticking to the speed limit, as the horror of my parents' deaths came back to me. John had already risen when I got back. The speed with which he jumped up from the sofa suggested that he'd been worried about me. I felt bad for not leaving him a note and I told him so.<p>

"I am surprised that you agreed to come here with me. I thought you would hate me after what happened." He sounded wistful, and strangely vulnerable for a creature who was nearly two hundred years old, and almost impossible to kill. It had the effect on me which I suspect it would have had on most women – I felt myself melting inside.

"I'm certainly not happy about it, that's for sure," I agreed, trying to sound stern, "but I couldn't hate you for it. You didn't expect or want it to happen, any more than I did."

The look on his face confirmed that I was right about that. There was more I needed to say to him though. I'd been holding back, almost as if I was scared to admit it to myself, the whole situation being so unfamiliar to me. Now it all came tumbling out. I blamed the forest magic.

"The thing is John, I care about you, and I've never really felt this way about anyone before. I know you've loved other women but that doesn't matter to me. Whatever happens I won't let anyone come between us." It was a good thing he had acute vampire hearing, as I'm not sure most people would have been able to keep up as I gabbled away.

Even so, he didn't reply immediately. He didn't even meet my eyes as he stood up and walked to the window. He gave a hollow laugh and then fell silent. I had the feeling he was struggling to say something.

"Everyone I have ever loved has suffered on my account."

I had to supress the urge to roll my eyes. Just because he was a poet there was really no need to be so melodramatic.

"Just because it happened in the past doesn't mean it will happen again. Besides, are you sure that everything that happened to them was because of you? People have to take responsibility for their own lives, and I think I'm pretty good at looking after myself."

He turned to me looking a little deflated, which made me feel guilty for being so unromantic.

"Perhaps you're right, in which case we need to focus on your protection. Come outside, I want to try something."

I won't deny that disappointed me, as personally my preference would have been to stay inside and try some other, more familiar things. He walked towards the door in nothing but the shirt and trousers he was wearing, while I darted off to find a warm sweater, coat and scarf. He might not feel the cold, but I most certainly did.

Just like the previous night, he kept me very close as we walked down the path away from the cottage and into the forest. His touch was light but I was constantly aware of it. He stopped when we reached a clearing.

"You need to attempt to use your powers again, show me what you can do."

I looked down at my feet, feeling rather stupid. "I'm not quite sure what it is that I can do," I confessed.

"Why don't you start by showing me how you managed to escape from Appius."

"Okay," I said, drawing out the word very slowly to give myself time to think. "I just, well, I just got angry. He said he was going to kill us both and that made me really, really furious." For a moment I was back there in that windowless room as the sensations I'd felt then swept over me. I felt an odd tingle in the tips of my fingers. I tried to channel it, but as my anger faded the feeling disappeared.

John was gazing at me with that unnerving, unblinking stare he had sometimes.

"I can't really explain what happened next. It was as if I had electricity flowing through my arms and out of my fingertips and when I pointed at him, it hit him and almost knocked him out."

"Try to show me," he asked quietly.

"It's not that easy, I can't just call it up to order. It only happened because I was so angry." I flexed my fingers as I spoke, as if that might bring the sensation back into them.

"Well I shall have to make you angry again. I want you to imagine that tree is Appius." He pointed at a stunted old oak tree, gnarled and ugly.

I smiled at the comparison but the smile was wiped off my face as he began his story. He told me how Appius had found him near to death in a lodging room in Rome. The ancient vampire had tracked him down, having decided to add him to his 'collection' of children. Every one of them had been chosen for some special talent: a great fighter, an artist, a member of an ancient royal line. Then he told me what Appius had done to him when he first became vampire; how he had abused and humiliated him. It was the master's way of imposing his will, by degrading his own children.

I could sense the pain John still felt and sure enough the anger grew in me. I focussed on the tree, imagining it truly was my former captor. My heart beat faster as the tingling sensation developed. It was in my hands at first, then my wrists, then spreading up my arms until it reached my elbows. I flung out my hands straight in front of me and two bolts of blue tinged light shot out, hitting the tree hard enough to take a chunk out of the bark.

The effort made me dizzy. My legs began to give way, as my whole body shook from the effort. John was at my side before I hit the ground, his arms around me, pulling me up. He held me gently until the shock waves subsided.

"That was impressive," John said, sounding genuinely impressed, which gave me a little glow of pride.

* * *

><p>We spent a lot of time during the remaining nights practising my powers in the forest. With some concentration I found I could control them. I needed to think about something that made me angry, but as long as I could call up a memory from some time in my life that was possible – quite a lot of things had made me angry over the years so there was a ready store.<p>

I switched entirely to vampire time, sleeping all day so I wouldn't waste a minute of the brief time we had together. John was equally determined not to fritter it away, and we spent most of the time when we weren't in the woods in bed.

Sometimes, lying in the afterglow of sex, I wondered what Gran would think if she could see me. I liked to think she would have approved of John, vampire or not. He was a wonderful lover. They only thing I had to compare him with were the men who girls at work talked about. I'd got the impression for their words, and even more from their thoughts, that finding love was a very hit and miss affair.

A handsome man certainly didn't seem to guarantee a good lover – far from it. Vicky, who was undoubtedly the most gorgeous girl in the office, was dating an Arsenal player. He was only in the second team, but even so he messed her about something rotten. Everyone knew that he was regularly cheating on her with girls he picked up in nightclubs. She knew too, but chose to deny it. She did admit that he wasn't that good in bed though, or so Amy had told me, after a particularly drunken girls' night out.

John seemed quite happy to devote hours to my pleasure. He got to know every inch of my body, delighting in finding all the places where the lightest of touches could turn me on, not to mention the places that were really ticklish. Returning the attention gave me just as much pleasure. If I'd had a human lover I might have found the coolness of his skin and the lack of a heartbeat more strange, but it was what I was getting used to. His body still bore the scars of his troubled human life giving him the appearance of frailty which was quite misleading.

I was happy to let him feed from me. He was careful only to take a little, and he always cleaned the marks – vampire saliva has healing properties, I discovered. It was a powerfully erotic experience and I found myself craving it more and more.

There was one thought that kept bringing me back to reality, however hard I tried to push it to the back of my mind.

"We do need a plan, you know." I said, for at least the fourth time, feeling just a little guilty for taking this time out, when there was the urgent matter of a vampire serial killer to attend to.

"That woman," I assumed he meant Nan Flanagan, "she has no idea of the threat he poses. She honestly thinks all vampires can behave as humans do. I have discussed this with the Northman and we have some idea. The Americans will be visiting many countries in the next two weeks, he is going to use the opportunity to contact Appius' other children."

"Does he have many?"

"Oh yes. He is easily bored, once he tires of one favourite he quickly moves on to make another. Some will have met their final death by now, but who knows how many still exist. He was always restless, moving from one country to another and as a result his children are scattered widely around the world."

The more I heard about Appius, the more I hated him. I was determined not to judge all vampire against his standard though, any more than I would judge all men by the standards of Peter Sutcliffe or Fred West. I had more confidence in our ability to defeat him now that I'd met Eric Northman, but having experienced his power at first hand it would need more than him and my lover.

"The Northman has a plan and I believe it has a chance of success. Most of Appius' children grow to despise him. If we can bring enough of us together there is a chance we can defeat him."

Silently I hoped it would be more successful than his last plan, but I said nothing.

* * *

><p>My heart was heavy as we left the Forest and crossed the Severn Bridge heading back towards civilisation. I'm only a telepath, not a psychic but I had the feeling that it would be a long time before John and I would be left alone together in peace.<p>

"You must be looking forward to seeing your brother again," I commented, trying to focus on the positive.

John snorted in amusement. "Vampire families are not like human families, Sookie, and even if they were I doubt if Eric Northman and I would ever be close."

I thought of how different my brother Jason and I had turned out to be and nodded sympathetically. "He does seem rather full of himself," I observed.

"He is a powerful and ancient vampire. He is rich and handsome; I think he has every reason to have a good opinion of himself." John sounded as if he was struggling to be fair to his sibling.

"Well let's just hope he can use his many talents to keep us safe from Appius." That probably sounded more sarcastic than I intended. I might not like the American vampire that much, but there was something about him which did inspire confidence. I was sure that if anyone could come up with a plan to deal with their evil maker, it would be him.

_**Thanks so much to everyone who posted feedback on Chapter 9. I'm so sorry I haven't replied to all the reviews, but I'm still trying to work out how Eric, John and their siblings are going to defeat Appius, or at least neutralise the threat he represents**_.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Sookie and John are back in London and now face the challenge of coming up with a plan which will succeed in neutralising the threat which Appius poses to a successful Vampire Revelation. **_

What is it about men that they think it's okay to talk about you as if you weren't there standing right in front of them. It happened to me all the time at work, so having the same experience with two vampires didn't surprise me, even though it pissed me off just as much.

"I don't want to use her as bait again," John was at least trying to defend me, and I felt a wave of gratitude towards him.

"We may have to. Once Appius discovered your interest in her, it was inevitable that he would come after her, and now he knows her true nature…"the blond American trailed off, not even bothering to look in my direction.

"I did not intend for Appius to take her last time, and I will do anything in my power to stop it happening again," John was doing his best to raise himself to his full height, even though that left him a good six inches shorter than his companion.

I didn't even bother asking if I had a say in it; I knew I would be wasting my breath.

"I will offer myself this time," John continued. A stranger might have thought he sounded determined, but I picked up an undercurrent in his voice that made me realise how unhappy he was.

"No, you have already shown that you underestimate him, we cannot afford another mistake." Eric Northman had a very good point there, I thought, but I tried not to acknowledge it as I didn't want to upset John, or make him look weak. The American was far too arrogant for my liking and that was not something I wanted to encourage.

The three of us were in a high-ceilinged, wood-panelled office whose grandeur seemed to add significance to a conversation which was already highly charged. The thick, antique carpet helped muffle our voices, but I was carefully monitoring the corridor outside and the rooms on either side. No-one would get close enough to overhear without me knowing about it – or at least no human would.

Eric Northman sauntered across the room and sat down in the Minister's high backed leather chair, stretching his long legs out on the desk. Two Chesterfield armchairs were placed either side of the marble fireplace. They were where the Minister sat for 'friendly chats' with his counterparts from around the world. I'd been asked to sit in more than once and knew that they were generally far from being friendly. In most cases the occupants were looking for ways to outwit each other – pretty much like the battle for superiority that was taking place now between the two vampires.

I took one of the chairs and tried to will John to sit down in the other; anything to stop him pacing the room.

"To be honest, I did expect to return to England and find that you two had crafted a plan," the American spoke again, with more than a hint of sarcasm, "but you've obviously been too busy with _other _things."

John glanced at me, and I'm sorry to say that I blushed.

"I hope she was worth it," Eric leered. I was liking him less and less every minute I spent with him.

The three of us sat in silence for a while. I'd discovered that Vampires can maintain a silent stillness in a way which no human can, so I slowed my breathing to try to match them as closely as I could. It worked so well that I was almost nodding off to sleep when Eric spoke again.

"I, at least, have kept to my part of the deal."

That got our attention, John and I both sat up in our chairs and leaned in towards him.

"I have tracked down six of Appius' children who are willing to help us."

John's shoulders slumped and I picked up a sense of disappointment. "Is that all?" he asked.

"Unfortunately some were not willing to stand against him, and others agree with his point of view and oppose the revelation. We will be eight powerful vampires though, and I believe that we will be strong enough. However my plan will not work without your…" he hesitated for a moment, looking straight at me "…human."

John was about to protest but I jumped in before he could speak. "We should at least listen to Mr Northman's plan."

Eric gave a smug smile. "Please, you must call me Eric," he added, "after all, we are practically related."

I suppressed my annoyance and indicated to him to get on with his proposal.

He stood up and went to lean against the imposing marble fire surround, addressing us as if he was a character in a play. "Naturally all of those willing to take a stand against Appius are strong, brave and resourceful," he gave John a pointed glare at that point. "They will arrive in London over the next few days. When they are all gathered, I will explain my plan." He turned away from us to gaze out into the night, the set of his shoulders making it clear that he had no intention of giving away any more.

Supressing a snort of frustration, I challenged him, "So are we just going to sit around and wait. What if Appius comes after us in the meantime?"

"Yes, now you come to mention it, there are things we need to do while we await the arrival of our brothers." Eric had shifted position so that now his gaze was firmly focussed on me. "We need to ensure that Appius is alert to our presence, and to raise his suspicions. We will need a certain amount of visibility over the next few days."

I really didn't like the sound of that 'we', but if Eric noticed my discomfort, he didn't show it.

"It is two centuries since I was last in London," he continued, "I would very much like to see how the place has changed."

"You cannot be serious," John and I exclaimed in unison.

"Deadly serious, when am I ever anything else? I know that your Miss Stackhouse has a certain gift for sniffing out vampires. We will all be on the alert for his presence. If he should approach, I will hold him off while the two of you make your escape."

"What about you?" Heaven knows why I should care, but I didn't like the idea of him sacrificing himself for me.

"Evil as Appius can be, I do not believe he would murder his own children, torture us perhaps, but murder, no."

John shook his head, looking unconvinced.

"I'm sorry, brother, but this is not negotiable. We start tonight."

My whole body slumped at the thought of a night out on the town. The few nights which John and I had spent out of London had really taken it out of me, one way and another. I'd never experienced jet lag, but I suspected that the feelings I had were quite similar as I'd struggled to make the shift back to human time and put in at least a few hours in the office earlier in the day.

Eric smiled, and for the first time I thought I detected a hint of kindness in his expression.

"You are tired; we will put off our excursion until tomorrow."

I was unable to supress a sigh of relief.

Any further discussion was interrupted by a knock on the door. The security guard who entered showed all the signs of having experienced a vampire fascination, as he intoned in an expressionless voice, "Excuse me, Mr Keats, sir, there's someone to see you."

All three of us stiffened briefly, but then the two vampire relaxed, so I knew that the new arrival wasn't Appius: they would have sensed him. John closed the distance between us, and pulled me in close for a full-on lip-puckering kiss. I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't been fairly sure that the main purpose was to make a point to Eric

"My brother is very lucky to have found you," Eric said quietly once we were alone. His normal swagger seemed muted, which surprised me, as well as making me feel rather awkward.

"Perhaps I'm lucky to have found him," I countered.

"Perhaps," he didn't look convinced, "but you are such a rare and precious creature, you need to belong to someone who can protect you."

I didn't know how to respond to his statement, it just hit too many buttons for me. I was finding it very hard to adjust to vampire concepts of ownership and possession; no matter how often John tried to convince me that it would be for my benefit and protection. Eric's insinuation that my lover wasn't strong enough to provide this rankled with me, perhaps because I had a suspicion that he might be right. Certainly the fact that John had told his brother about both my telepathy and his belief that I was someone descended from the Fae didn't inspire me with confidence.

Changing the subject to something less uncomfortable, I asked Eric if he had any particular places in mind that he would like to visit.

"I would like to visit Soho, and also the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens. I used to walk there with my child Pamela; it was a fine hunting ground, so many people, such beauty, such debauchery." He sounded quite wistful at the thought.

It took me a minute to realise that he was talking about a vampire child, and that it must have been humans they were hunting. I took a childish delight in informing him that the old Pleasure Gardens had been demolished well over a century ago and were now the location of a less than salubrious Council housing estate.

John's reappearance at that point was a very welcome relief. He explained that he'd been summoned to his King to give an update on progress. For one awful moment I thought he and Eric were going to get into another long discussion, but he must have sensed my exhaustion. So, after giving Eric directions to get to my place for the following night, we finally left.

* * *

><p>At my insistence, Julian came with us on our nocturnal excursions. Having him there made me feel a lot safer, if only because he might have the chance to call for back-up if things didn't go according to plan. He accepted the task with undisguised enthusiasm. His view was that as soon as vampires came 'out of the coffin' – and can I say that I'm sure he won't be the last to make that joke – they would become the greatest of celebrities in a celebrity obsessed age. He was already planning his own 'fantasy vampire Big Brother'.<p>

For our first night out, he suggested a tour of Soho's gay bars, which the two vampires agreed would be appropriate, given Appius' tastes. Eric made sure to dress the part in a pair of tight leather trousers which he matched with a Lycra vest that hugged the tautly defined muscles of his chest. He should have come with a health warning. With his height, and a head of hair that would have graced a L'Oreal commercial, every occupant turned to stare at him in each of the bars we visited.

It made my job a lot harder, as it was almost impossible to focus on anything apart from the tsunami of lecherous thoughts. Eventually I insisted that Eric should pretend that Julian was his boyfriend – a plan which my boss embraced enthusiastically.

It was in the _Admiral Duncan_ that we first sensed Appius' presence. John and Eric felt it first, and that evidence of how closely a vampire is tied to his maker both scared and reassured me. They both moved in closer to me, as close as they could be without touching. I scanned the small, crowded, bar and spotted him after a few seconds. Unlike most of the men in there who were sporting tight jeans and skimpy vests or fitted T-shirts, he was wearing a long overcoat. He hovered for a few minutes in a dark corner then disappeared as silently as he had arrived.

We made one or two more stops, then decided to call it a night. There was no further sign of Appius.

The next night Julian suggested Islington as our destination. He wanted to go to Trade, but I drew the line at another gay bar. When I saw the alternative, I almost wished I'd changed my mind.

As we walked into the back alley behind the station I saw the flashing neon announcing the club where we were headed: 'Slimelight'. I shook my head; Julian's taste in nightlife always had tended towards the outrageous and grotesque. It was obvious from the people milling around waiting to get in that it was some kind of Goth club. Eric, naturally, fitted right in, with his black jeans and another black vest, this time dressed up with an eagle claw pendant on what must have been a platinum chain. Somehow Eric always seemed to look just right. My history is pretty hazy but I wondered if he'd ever fought the original Goths and Vandals in his human life. John did a pretty mean Goth look as well, so naturally most of the women and quite a few of the men paid attention to them.

Once we got inside, Eric was lost in fascination. His keen gaze took in everything: the décor, the clientele, even the merchandising. He reminded me of a TV anthropologist who had stumbled across a lost tribe and was determined to learn their secrets. Every now and then the DJ would play a record that filled the dance-floor. Eric would lean in close so I could hear him and ask what it was.

There was no sign of Appius though, so after about an hour we left. That was when we saw him. He was outside, across the alley from the entrance, wearing a long overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. He raised his head slightly and I thought I caught a glimpse of his eyes, looking more snake-like and evil that ever. He tipped his hat in a gesture of exaggerated politeness and then he was gone.

"I can't do this," I said quietly to John as we walked up a dark and narrow Torrens Street. "It's too stressful, waiting for him to make his move." The truth was that even with the protection of two vampires, I knew that Appius was strong and fast enough to take me if he wanted.

"You don't need to worry," it was Eric who answered, "Appius is a master strategist – I should know, I learned everything I know from him. He will not move prematurely until he knows exactly what we are planning."

"When will that be?" I probably sounded more impatient than it was fair to be, but the feeling of being in constant danger does that to a girl.

"You must have patience. It is not easy for us to travel around, there are certain constraints. Our brothers will be here as soon as they can." Eric managed to make me feel as guilty as hell. Of course I realised that getting caught in the sun was a matter of life or death to a vampire – or should that be undeath versus final death. There was a manual of vampire etiquette to be written before the revelation – perhaps I should do it and make my fortune.

As it turned out we only had one more night to wait. Eric took us on a fascinating history tour of the City of London, pointing out all the things that had changed since his day. He sounded like an exaggerated version of my Grandad, who had been very fond of the same topic as he got older and grumpier. Appius followed us at a distance for most of the night - every now and then we would catch a glimpse of him but he never got too close. Luckily for my sanity, Eric's tales of his exploits over two hundred years ago were entertaining enough to make me forget about the threat probably eighty percent of the time.

* * *

><p>The next night, Eric informed us that all of Appius' children had arrived in London, and that it was time to put his plan into action. Once again I'd been insistent that Julian had to be kept in the loop. I wasn't about to go out on a limb again, and if I could have any of the resources of the Service behind me I was going to take full advantage.<p>

That was how the two of us found ourselves in a basement room at HQ with eight vampires. Poor Julian was quite overwhelmed, even though he tried to remain calm. I felt a bit more confident than him, but even so being outnumbered like this was pretty intimidating.

I'd never realised before, but even when I succeeded in keeping my shields up in a room full of people, there was always a faint hum in the background, like the sound of traffic outside a double glazed window. I'd never been in a room full of people with almost total silence.

Unfortunately it made Julian's thoughts all the more prominent. It would be unfair to describe him as sex-mad, but he did have a very active social life, and I suspected that a few nights in the company of 'look but don't touch' Eric Northman had raised his libido to breaking point. I'd often thought it lucky he was not ten or fifteen years older, as nowadays safe sex and good drug treatments seemed to have the AIDS menace pretty much under control. He was particularly proud of the accuracy of his 'gaydar' at seeking out potential partners, however well they might camouflage their orientation. Now he was wondering if it worked on vampires.

"Stop it," I hissed at him, in what I thought was a whisper. I'd reckoned without vampire hearing through.

"Stop what?" It would have to be Eric who picked up on it and challenged me.

"Nothing.. nothing important, I was talking to Julian."

There was no hint of the good humoured Eric I'd got to see on the previous few nights. He silenced the two of us with a fierce glare, then looked round the room to ensure that he had everyone's full attention, before beginning his explanation. He didn't bother with a lot of background detail; presumably he had already briefed the others.

"Your original plan did have some merit," he inclined his head briefly in John's direction, in a gesture which was presumably meant to be approving although the effect was anything but. "However you were never strong enough to implement it on your own. Your English King may be a young vampire, but he has the authority of his position. I do not believe that Appius will dare to defy him in front of so many of his children. To do so would be to undermine his own authority, and he will realise that is potentially fatal."

He spoke with such natural confidence that I was drawn in. Without waiting for John's response, I nodded enthusiastically. Then I remembered he key feature of the original plan: me – the bait.

"As I have explained, Appius has an interest in John's human, this woman here. We know that he wants her for his own purposes. Our brother has already defied him by taking a true companion, rather than just a pet. What we have to do is very simple. We use the woman to draw Appius into the open but in a place and at a time of our choosing."

I looked round the room to see how the other vampires were taking the plan, but their expressions were all quite inscrutable. Eric had introduced them as they came in, and it was clear that Appius made a point of choosing only very special people to make as his children. There was a Count from the Medici family in Renaissance Italy, tall, dark haired and with the familiar aquiline nose I'd seen in portraits in the National Gallery. Another had obviously been a powerful athlete if his bulging muscles were anything to go by. I was surprised to see one quite elderly man, whose long white beard made me think of Merlin, but not surprised to see another younger man with dark wavy hair who, despite what was obviously a knife scar on his face, gave every impression of having an artistic temperament.

They were all male, of course. I'd expected that, given Appius' tastes.

Eventually I couldn't help but fill the silence. "Um," I muttered, almost under my breath. Shades of the embarrassment I'd felt in my few months in high school came flooding back – was I about to make a complete idiot of myself. Naturally all the vampires in the room had heard me and had turned to look in my direction. Julian followed their stares.

"Uh," I stuttered again. This time John took pity on me. He took a couple of steps towards me and slipped an arm around my waist for reassurance. Taking a deep breath I continued, "Look, I'm sorry if I'm missing something, but if Appius is your maker, can't he just control all of you and tell you what to do."

The vampire's glares had turned hostile as I spoke, and I noticed that one or two had let their fangs run down. From the other side of the room, Eric moved in close as well so I was sandwiched between him and John.

"You make a very good point, Miss Stackhouse," Eric said, sounding unusually formal. "You are quite right to raise it." With that he glared at the other vampires, challenging them to contradict him. The fangs that were down retracted; and some of the tension seeped out of the room.

"It is possible for a vampire to defy his maker, but only for a short while. Appius will not hesitate to use force to make us comply, but I am confident that each of us is strong enough to hold out for many minutes."

"I see," or at least I hoped I did, "so one of you maintains your defiance for as long as you can, then the next steps in."

"Exactly, you have grasped things very well." Eric smiled for the first time that evening.

"So where and when?" I asked, anxious to get on with it.

"There is a building in London which is the source of great power, although the humans who use it really have no idea of it."

"You mean The Freemason's Hall," the elderly vampire observed.

"Yes, Dr Dee. You will of course know that although the building is, by our standards modern, the site on which it stands was recognised as a place of ancient magic as far back as Roman times. Appius will be aware of this. You, Miss Stackhouse, must come up with a reason to enter the building at night. With your profession that shouldn't be that much of a problem."

I exchanged looks with Julian, whose expression managed to combine excitement with a suggestion that he was actually thinking '_Oh my God, what have I let myself in for_,' which was pretty much what was on his mind.

"I'm sure we can manage that, Mr Northman," he said, falling back on his professional persona for comfort and protection. "What happens once we are in there though?"

"You will visit first in the hours of daylight. Miss Stackhouse is sensitive enough to the presence of vampires that she will be able to detect if there is any sign of Appius. Ensure you conduct a thorough search. If there is no sign of him during the day, you will need to return at night, and to make your destination obvious. We want him to follow you."

"You mean you expect me to just let him seize me, feed from me again," I interjected furiously, as all the horror of my previous kidnap came rushing back.

"Yes, Sookie, I'm afraid that's exactly what you are going to have to do," Eric shot John a warning look before crossing the room to stand in front of me. He hooked a finger under my chin and tipped my face up to meet his. "You can do it, I know you can."

Something about the way he looked at me, combined with the sincerity of his voice, calmed me. I was probably being foolish but I convinced myself that he cared about what was going to happen to me, that he didn't just see me as an expendable pawn in his scheme.

"Besides, we will all be close at hand ready to protect you."

All the men nodded enthusiastically, but it seemed to me that the temperature in the room dropped by at least ten degrees.

"Don't worry, Mr Northman, we'll start tomorrow morning." Julian sounded so keen that I suspected he might have been the victim of a dose of vampire fascination. There was nothing I could do though, but nod weakly in agreement.

"I have to feed," murmured Count de Medici, sounding almost apologetic. He and Julian had been exchanging meaningful glances all night so it didn't surprise me when my boss jumped up after the vampire and offered to show him out.

One by one the other vampires melted away until only John, Eric and I were left.

"You don't look happy," John observed, watching for my reaction.

I debated how to respond. The truth was I wasn't entirely comfortable with the plan, but I didn't think I had much choice but to go through with it. It wasn't the fear of failure this time; I had confidence in Eric and the group of vampires he had brought together. My concern was whether we could pull it off without what our American friends would call 'collateral damage'.

* * *

><p>Julian didn't have much trouble planting a rumour of a bomb plot with the Freemason's Hall as its centre. It was easy to portray the secretive organisation, with its odd rituals and links to heretic strains of Christianity dating back to the Crusades, as a possible target for Islamic extremists. We weren't allowed to carry out the search on our own though. They had things hidden that they didn't want anyone to see, so precious to them that the Grand Master who was assigned to guide us didn't even dare think about them. That almost made me laugh; to him it was a superstition, he had no idea that by blocking his mind to me he was doing exactly the right thing.<p>

We were treated to a guided tour of the fantastical, Egyptian inspired, temple and its ante-rooms before he led us down to the cellars below the building. Some were store rooms for old furniture, one held a large collection of wine, cool and dusty but not out of the ordinary.

"I think you must be mistaken in your suspicions," the Grand Master said, "there's no evidence that anything down here has been disturbed…" his voice tailed off at the end of the sentence. We had ventured down an uneven flight of steps, obviously much older than the nineteen-thirties building above. It was dark enough to need a torch and the flashlight clearly picked up traces of fresh mud. At the bottom was a door, dark carved oak with a huge iron ring for a handle. Cobwebs hung all around, but in places they had been torn or brushed away. Someone had been here recently.

I tested the mind of our guide. He was clearly worried. This area was out of bounds. Years ago a caretaker had been found dead in mysterious circumstances and since then no-one had been very keen to check it out. I felt my skin prickle.

"You can leave us if you want," Julian told the older man.

"I'll wait up on the landing," he replied hastily, handing us a heavy bunch of keys.

Julian and I looked at each other. I checked my watch, it was only 11 am, there should be no danger, but even so my heart was thumping. Swallowing back his fear he stepped forward and, very slowly, turned the key in the lock. The door swung open smoothly. If we'd been in a movie it would have creaked and groaned. It's probably the point when the ominous music would have started and everyone in the audience would have been willing us to turn back.

He flashed the torch around the room before entering. It looked like an old crypt, a low ceilinged central area surrounded by a series of even lower arches. They were all empty, except one, which was occupied by a large stone sarcophagus. It looked like something I'd seen in the British Museum, only that one had a mummified body in it.

I didn't dare say anything to Julian, I just looked from the sarcophagus back to him, and he quickly got the message. Guarding me with his body, he pushed me backwards out of the door and closed it quietly behind him.

"That was quick," the Grand Master said as we retreated up the stairs.

"Years of practice," Julian replied, coolly. "There's no sign of life, our source must have been mistaken, I'm sorry we had to trouble you."

"Oh it was no trouble; we are a service organisation after all." That wasn't actually what he was thinking, but I chose to ignore his rather nasty thoughts about Julian and me. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could. It occurred to me as we retraced our steps through the maze of corridors that Eric probably knew all along that this was Appius' current resting place; he had just needed us to confirm it.


	12. Chapter 12

The afternoon dragged on interminably as Julian and I waited for nightfall. He'd insisted on briefing Sir Stephen fully on all the developments and as a result I was going to be assigned a full bodyguard at all times. I had no idea how the vampires would react to that, and it made me nervous. I couldn't help but play out all the scenarios in my mind, and none of them ended well.

I wasn't very surprised when Eric confirmed that he had indeed known that the Freemasons Hall was Appius' current resting place – he had just needed us to confirm the exact location in the building.

"If you knew, why didn't you just have us stake him?" Julian challenged.

Eric shivered visibly. "He is my maker, however much I might hate him, it's not that easy. I could no more kill him or have him killed deliberately than end my own existence."

We maintained a respectful silence for a few seconds until Eric spoke again. Once again he was gathered with his vampire brothers, and once again he had assumed the position of leadership which seemed to come so naturally to him.

"This is all working out very well; it should make things much easier than I anticipated."

I pulled a face at that, I was pretty sure it wouldn't make things easier for me.

Eric ignored me and continued to set out his plan. "Tomorrow night, you will go to the main Temple and wait for Appius. He will know you are in the building and come for you. When he does, we will be waiting."

I could clearly picture the main Temple, an octagonal room right at the heart of the building. It was where the Freemasons held their most sacred rituals, so naturally enough it had an altar right at the front.

"Please don't tell me I've got to be tied to the altar like some virgin sacrifice." Even as I said it, the gleam in Eric's eyes made it very clear that was exactly what he was thinking. I had a suspicion the idea might have turned him on just a little.

"Unfortunately you are no longer a virgin," he shot a look at John, who was standing in the corner, completely disengaged, "but apart from that yes, I think it is an excellent plan."

All the brothers, except one, nodded their solemn agreement. I'd let myself get painted into the corner. I'd agreed to help, without laying down any conditions, so now I couldn't see any choice but to go along with Eric's plan.

After the meeting ended, Eric allowed John to take me home, but only on condition that several human and vampire bodyguards accompanied us. In any other circumstances my only desire would have been to spend the night making love with enough passion to force every other thought from my mind, but the knowledge that four vampires, all with superhuman hearing, were sitting out in the stables was a real passion-killer.

John tried his best. By now he knew me so well that normally he could excite me with the simplest touch, the lightest of kisses. Nothing he could do had any impact on the tension which seemed to seep into every part of my body. If I closed my eyes and tried to relax, the image of Appius red snake-eyes would appear behind my eyelids.

"Let's just talk," he suggested eventually. "I find myself anticipating the revelation rather eagerly."

"Are you planning to reveal your true identity?" I'd been wondering how he was planning to handle that. There were a surprising number of famous characters amongst the un-dead so I expected the media interest to be enormous.

"I haven't decided yet. I would like to publish my recent works, but perhaps under a pseudonym so I can judge the reaction. What I most want to do is to correct all the myths and untruths which have been peddled about me." He seemed to find that idea very amusing.

We chatted on the same theme for a little while longer, but eventually my bed called me, and unusually it called me alone.

"Don't worry, after tomorrow night everything will be well," John assured me as he kissed me goodnight.

I spent most of the following day with Julian and our backup team, going over plans of the building and the timescale for the operation. The plan was a simple one. I was the bait to lure Appius into the main Temple. As this was situated in the centre of the building it had only one exit door leading to an outer lobby. Eric Northman, the eldest and most powerful of Appius' children still in existence would cover that. There were windows opening onto an outer corridor so these needed to be covered as well.

The human bodyguards were expected to look out for me as their main priority. They were equipped with small wooden stakes, although I doubted that they would have the chance to defend themselves if Appius were to target them – he was just too fast. Their standard issue anonymous black jumpsuits had an odd sheen to them. Julian explained to me afterwards that it was new fabric which had been developed: Kevlar with a silver weave. The authorities weren't slacking in getting ready for the revelation.

That got me thinking about what I was going to wear. I imagined Eric had visions of me in a lacy white full-length gown; Ingrid Pitt style. That would certainly rouse Appius' suspicions, as well as being completely impractical, so I compromised in a white blouse which was possibly a little lower cut and lacier than might be expected for a special assignment, paired with figure hugging black slacks.

"Appius will think all his Christmases have come at once," I commented to Eric and John as they arrived to meet me, soon after nightfall, trying to inject some humour into my voice.

Eric gave me an odd look, and I remembered that Christmas hadn't been invented – the Roman had lived before the time of Christ. I racked my brains for anything I'd ever learned about ancient Rome, but John beat me too it.

"Saturnalia is probably more appropriate," he commented, grimly, as we set off on our mission.

One of our human security team had already broken into the building through a rear window and disabled the alarm system by the time we arrived. There were eight of them, but their instructions were to keep back, well out of sight, monitoring the exits and awaiting Julian's call. The two vampires quickly disappeared from view.

That left Julian and I circling the corridors which ran around the outside of the central Grand Temple. We made a show of searching for something, but it was all a performance, waiting for the inevitable moment when Appius would strike. Don't ask me how, but I sensed his movement and motioned to Julian to hang back as I walked towards the door that led down to the cellar: his resting place. It was a struggle to force one foot in front of the other, my legs were so heavy. I had to hope that my blood was precious enough to him that he wouldn't kill me outright, but the knowledge of the risk I was taking had my heart pounding in my chest.

The cellar door opened so silently that I barely registered it, but there was no mistaking the cold touch of his hand against my cheek. I'm sure I jumped, even though I was expecting it, and I certainly gave a little scream. I couldn't help myself, but at least it made the pretence that I wasn't there looking for him a bit more convincing.

"I had not expected you to seek me out, Miss Stackhouse," he hissed.

"I wasn't…I had no idea…" I stammered in response. No acting skills were needed on my part, I was genuinely terrified.

"No matter, I would have found you when I needed to. Please do not delude yourself that my child is strong enough to protect you. You must know by now that he is helpless against me."

While he was talking he had grabbed my arm and was pulling me through a small door built into the wooden panelling. I hadn't known it was there, but I wasn't surprised to find that it took us into the inner chamber which formed the Grand Temple of the Order of Freemasons. He didn't bother turning the lights on, but the full moon shining through the skylight illuminated the room, casting strange shadows which only added to my sense of terror.

The faint sound of a door opening could be heard in the distance. Appius and I both tensed at the same time. His lip curled into a sneer, but he showed no other reaction to the knowledge that there were others in the building with us.

"There is something I have wanted to try, and this is the perfect opportunity," his voice was menacing as he guided me towards the altar at the front of the chamber.

I didn't bother to resist; there was no point, I would only risk injuring myself. He lifted me so effortlessly that I felt as if I were floating. It wasn't a comforting feeling as it only emphasised just how powerful he was. If he recognised the threat there would be nothing to stop him taking me straight out of the building to a place where no-one could reach him.

How he did it, I have no idea, as there were no visible straps, but as soon as he laid me down on the high altar I was pinned down, unable to move.

"Here I can drain your blood, and the ancient forces will allow me to preserve it for as long as I need it." He bent down and produced a glass flask, a knife, and an ancient looking bound volume from underneath the pedestal on which I lay.

Great plan for him: not so good for me. Fear took hold of my body, even if I had been able to move my limbs would have been frozen. Eric's plan just had to work.

I'd been carefully wired up so that Julian would be able to keep track of what was happening. We didn't think Appius would recognise the technology but it was well hidden all the same. We hadn't planned exactly when he would intervene, that had been left to his judgement. I have to confess that I was very relieved when he decided that this was the moment.

The enormous, intricately carved, gilded doors to the inner temple swung open with the kind of force that only a powerful vampire could have been responsible for. It was my boss who stepped forward into the light, though. I could clearly read the terror in his mind, but bless him, he didn't show it in his voice.

"Let her go, Appius, you are surrounded." He issued his challenge to the ancient vampire.

"You pathetic humans, surely you do not believe you can stand against me," Appius roared and with a burst of superhuman speed, crossed the room to the doorway where Julian was standing.

I screamed, but my boss somehow managed to dodge behind the doorway. One of the security men took the full force of the vampire's attack; I could see the blood even from where I was lying. Then a familiar voice sounded.

"It is not only humans who stand against you, Appius."

"Well, well, so it is my Viking. I am surprised to find you in league with the poet."

"And why would that be, _master_?" John now stepped out of the shadows to challenge his maker.

I could only see Appius' back in the doorway, and it was too dark to see either John or Eric clearly. Unable to read their thoughts, I could only rely on interpreting their tone of voice. John sounded more determined than I had ever heard him before. Perhaps it was the presence of his Viking brother than gave him confidence. I had to admit it had that effect on me.

"Whatever our differences, there is one thing that unites us…" John left the rest of the sentence hanging, perhaps judging it was unnecessary to spell it out.

I could hear the sneer in Appius' voice as he replied, "Even if you can work together, the two of you are not strong enough to resist me. I will have the woman, whatever you say."

There was a rustle of movement, no louder than a soft breeze, then another voice spoke, and another and another. As each of the vampire siblings stepped forward they added their own challenge to their maker.

Appius responded with increasing fury to each one, threatening to end the existence of all of his children, but I could sense a slight hesitation which increased just marginally as each of them confirmed that they too would stand against him.

There should have been at least eight human bodyguards out there. I knew one was dead, but I tried to remain calm and probe for the others. There was nothing. I said a little prayer to myself, hoping that they were still alive, but had perhaps fallen victim to vampire fascination which had removed all conscious thoughts from their minds.

With no response from them, Julian was my best hope. The question was whether he could see what was happening, and relay it to me as we had planned. It took a few minutes; initially he was so paralysed with fear that nothing came out but garbled nonsense. The idea that a drowning man's life flashes before his eyes suddenly made sense to me, as that was exactly what Julian's life seemed to be doing now.

Then he managed to calm himself. He began to mentally describe the scene so I could follow what was happening. My part would be coming soon, we had rehearsed it over and over, and I was confident that I would be ready.

Appius roared, so loudly I could hear the glass in the skylight shaking.

'_Oh shit: Eric_.' Julian thought, so I knew which of his children the vampire had gone for – it made sense as the Viking was easily the strongest.

This was the moment. I channelled all my anger into an energy current that flowed through my arms and gave me the strength to break out of the wrist and ankle restraints that Appius had fixed. It seemed that I flew across the room at a speed which a vampire would have struggled to match.

"Leave him alone," I yelled, turning the full force of my anger on Appius. I was almost as shocked as he was, as the blue current from my fingertips threw him back against one of the great marble pillars.

Eric and his brothers rushed forward and between them managed to subdue him. The human bodyguards stepped out of the shadows carrying heavy silver chains which they wrapped around his neck, wrists and ankles, chaining him to the pillar. The stench of burning flesh made me gag.

By then, the attention of all the vampires had turned towards the great staircase. King Edward and his queen had arrived, in full regalia. They took up position a few feet away from Appius, seemingly unconcerned by his obvious agony.

"Appius Livius Occella," the King intoned, "you are a threat to our entire race, and this cannot be tolerated. Accordingly I have decided to banish you from this vampire kingdom. You should know that you will not be welcome anywhere in Western Europe or North America."

Appius somehow managed to straighten himself up to his full height and glared back with an expression of pure fury in his snake eyes. "They are not the only countries in the world."

"No, but they are only ones where our kind will be recognised and be safe," one of his children cut in. I think from the accent that it was the Count de Medici. "You can go anywhere else, but you will have to go back into hiding if you wish to continue your existence."

All eyes were focussed on Appius, waiting for his reaction. He continued to glare as defiantly as ever, but I thought that his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. Meanwhile, something which looked like a high-tech coffin was being carried up the grand staircase. Sure enough it was placed open in front of him. It came with a built-in stake – nice touch.

It took all seven of the remaining human bodyguards to manhandle him into it, as he struggled and cursed in an ancient language. The looks on both Eric and John's faces told me that his oaths were seriously unpleasant. Julian, with his classical education, understood a few of them as well and relayed them to me. Basically, we were all going to die, horribly.

"Silence," King Edward hissed.

To my surprise, Appius obeyed. Julian and I exchanged glances, impressed with the power that a vampire king had over his subjects, even those who were much older and infinitely more powerful than himself.

The ancient vampire stopped struggling and allowed himself to be lowered into the coffin. The silver chains were pulled from his flesh, and wrapped around the outside. Two members of the vampire brotherhood pulled on thick gloves and lifted the casket. Meanwhile their brothers and the King each took one of the human guards and, stepping in close, proceeded to subject them to the full force of a vampire fascination.

We didn't see any of John's brothers again. They all disappeared into the night, presumably to prepare themselves for the revelation. All but one, that is. Eric Northman, the Viking, stayed in London for a few more days. We saw him once or twice, just briefly as he said he had business to complete while he was over here.

He came to call on me before he left. I was alone, and I wondered if he'd known that before he called. He brought me flowers, an unusual and dramatic arrangement in red and black. I was curled up in front of the TV watching a repeat of an old 'Buffy' episode, dressed in my oldest jeans and a thick sweater. My hair hung loose around my face and I fidgeted nervously with a strand as I invited him in.

"We return to the States tomorrow evening," he explained. "I wanted to say goodbye in person."

I just smiled, not knowing what to say.

"You are a most unusual woman," he continued. "Indeed, if my brother had not already claimed you, I would most certainly try to persuade you to return with me. With your talents, you could make a lot of money in the US."

"That's very kind of you, but I'm happy here, and I have everything I need."

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a knowing smile.

"I will miss you, Sookie Stackhouse," he said, his voice low and seductive. I confess that if I hadn't already been head over heels in love with John, I might have weakened. He slipped something into my hand, then bent down to brush his cool lips across my cheek. "I hope one day you will visit me in America. I cannot say where I will be living, but you will find me." With that he glided off towards the door which seemed to open on its own.

As he disappeared into the distance I looked at the card he'd left me. _Eric Northman_, it said, in a thick dark script, followed by a phone number. That was all. I tucked it into my bag. It would be good to travel, and I hoped that after the revelation John and I would be free to move about as we wished. Perhaps we would be able to go and visit him.


	13. Chapter 13

"Where do you think he is now?" I asked John, one evening in early December. A log fire was roaring in the grate – not strictly allowed as the smokeless zone laws introduced after the terrible smogs of the 1950s were still in force. John had told me all about those days, with more than a hint of nostalgia. Thick, choking smoky fog had been a feature of London life since the industrial revolution, and a great gift to vampires allowing them to move about freely after dark and select their prey at will.

We were talking about Appius, again. The plane which had transported him out of London had crash landed in the arctic wastes of northern Finland. There were no human survivors found, only two bloodless corpses and an open coffin.

"He won't disobey the King, he will lie low," John said confidently, ignoring the fact that the two statements didn't automatically go together. "If he has any sense he will stay there, at least for the winter while the nights are long."

"Let's hope so." I forced a smile. There were only a few weeks to go until the revelation, and I was counting them down on a calendar which Julian had given me. It had a new word to learn every day – he thought it would help me to improve my vocabulary.

Everyone who knew about it was nervous, it was impossible to predict how people would react. Would there be mass panic, or riots on the streets. A whole new department was set up to co-ordinate plans, and naturally I was seconded to it. My colleagues regarded me with an odd mixture of jealousy and awe. Julian and I were the only ones who actually knew any vampires, and I was certainly the only person who was in a relationship with one.

Our work was completely hush-hush. Even within the organisation we had a cover story – something to do with international terrorism and the millennium bug. Our plan was a subtle one. We looked for every opportunity to either plant or encourage stories which, if not entirely positive towards vampires, at least made them intriguing and sexy. There were already novels and TV shows out there, it wasn't hard to ensure that as many as possible got published, and when they were, to get them to the top of the best-seller charts. For once we worked happily in harmony with the US authorities.

There were a select few who shared our secrets, bound by the strictest confidentiality. The Government was keen to use any opportunity to boost the economy, so new product opportunities were being identified. A secret auction of the distribution rights for the synthetic blood products, crucial to enable vampires to live openly, had been hotly contested and there would be at least two rival, fully tested and approved versions on the market.

Light-tight fixtures and fittings to convert buildings and homes into places of safety were going to be another big seller. That was great news for me, and I managed to get my little mews house as a test installation. Thick black blinds were fitted to the inside of every window and door, carefully hidden between exterior blinds, and curtains so as not to be too obvious. The effect was amazing, even with the brightest winter sunshine outside, the rooms were so dark that I had to feel my way around.

It meant that John could spend every evening with me if he wanted. He pretty much moved in on a permanent basis. His small selection of clothes found their way into my wardrobe, and if he had needed to use a toothbrush I'm sure it would have ended up in my bathroom. I insisted that he buy his own cleaning products though, fed up with my best shampoo and shower gel getting used up so quickly – I'd discovered that cleanliness was the one human bodily function that vampires really cared about.

"How are you?" I would ask him every evening when I got home from work.

"I'm fine, how are you?"

"I'm fine too, thank you."

"Good, then we are both fine."

It was a silly little ritual, after all vampires don't change, but it was the kind of thing that made us feel like a real couple.

It got dark so early that he was always awake when I got home, and even started to try his hand at cooking for me. He was fine with meat, not so good with vegetables, but an iron-rich diet suited me, as I was letting him feed from me regularly.

I didn't mind, in fact to tell the truth I found it strangely enjoyable, particularly the times when we shared blood. That was usually combined with spectacular sex. There was nothing at all old-fashioned about John's enthusiasm for that, and despite my sheltered upbringing I easily matched him – perhaps it was the fairy blood.

He had discovered a second hand copy of 'The Joy of Sex' in a charity shop, and insisted that we work our way through all the positions. I'm glad to say he wasn't as hairy as the man in the illustrations – I've always found facial hair a real turn off – but he was every bit as inventive and probably more flexible.

King Edward had ordered all of his subjects to keep a very low profile in the remaining weeks, fearful that any further unfortunate incidents would inflame public emotions. To my disgust the Police had found a suspect to pin the Madonna murder on. An ex-alcoholic who lived on the margins of society, in and out of homeless shelters, he had already been given an Anti-Social Behaviour Order for harassing Jordan and Victoria Beckham. It wasn't too hard for them to make a case against him.

Disgusted and outraged as I was, there was nothing I could do. I extracted a promise from Julian that we would find a way to get his case reconsidered once things were out in the open.

-XoXoXo-

In mid-December, all of the English vampires were ordered to present themselves for registration in advance of the revelation. The authorities had been surprisingly calm about the prospect of one of humanity's greatest fears living openly in society, but they wanted to know exactly what they were dealing with.

It sounded faintly biblical to me – a vampire census. I was surprised they weren't all expected to return to the place where they were first made, but that would probably have been too complicated. Instead MI5 set up a number of reception centres in Police headquarters or other secure buildings – GCHQ in Cheltenham, Menwith Hill in North Yorkshire.

Along with all the London vampires, John had to report to MI5 HQ. I was allowed to come with him, although because of our relationship Julian would be the one to sit in on his interview. Unfortunately the night of his interview co-incided with a bus and tube strike. We were quite happy to walk, but the powers that be insisted on a car. John would be the last to be interviewed that evening – he wasn't scheduled until 5.00am and they were worried we would get caught up with the drunken, late-night party crowd.

I wasn't best pleased to find that they'd sent Joe as our driver. He had moved in with my friend Amy, and she was now pregnant with his child. I'd been to their engagement party, which was not an enjoyable experience. They'd hired a comedian, or at least that was how he described himself. Most of his so-called jokes were at the expense of black people or gays which Joe and his friends seemed to find quite hysterically amusing. Personally I didn't see it.

Joe was late, with some odd excuse about being delayed at the American embassy. I knew he was a strong broadcaster, so I closed the security screen between front and rear seats, not wanting to hear his thoughts about my true love - I could be one hundred percent certain they would not be pleasant.

I reckoned we had about forty-five minutes but with hardly any traffic on the roads that gave us plenty of time to get to the safety of the underground car park. To my surprise though, just as we approached our destination he pulled up in a side street.

"What do you think you're doing," I yelled, "we need to be there in five minutes."

Joe turned in his seat, his face a mask of hatred and anger. "He is an abomination," he said coldly, his voice completely emotionless, sounding clearly through the speaker as he stared at my lover. "He must be destroyed."

"No," I yelled, "please don't do this."

Even in my fear and panic there was something odd about his voice that nagged at me.

I rattled desperately at the door handle, but we were in a security car and the rear doors can only be opened from the outside. I tried to lower the bullet proof screen, but he had locked it in place, leaving us trapped. There was nothing I could do, even the extra strength I had from sharing blood with John wouldn't help – these cars were designed to be bomb-proof.

"Please, take us to safety," I begged again, banging desperately on the screen, "Just drive us on, and I'll say nothing." The sky was beginning to lighten and soon the sun would rise.

He was facing forward now, but I could see in the mirror that his expression hadn't changed. I fumbled in my bag for something I could use as a weapon to threaten him with. Julian had got me permission to carry a gun, equipped with silver bullets, ever since we'd heard about Appius' escape, but even holding that to the screen, Joe didn't react. Instead, he took the keys out of the ignition, wound down his window and quite calmly dropped them into a drain at the side of the road.

All this time, John was sitting perfectly still. After what seemed like an age, he spoke. "Do not fret, my love, it is my time. Meeting you has made my existence complete."

I could see that his skin was already starting to blister, and smoke. I winced, imagining the pain he must be in. He didn't react at all, just turned to me with a wistful expression.

"Never forget that I loved you."

I turned away, unable to watch his existence end in front of my eyes.

It was too early for many people to be out on the streets, but I caught a glimpse in the wing mirror of a figure approaching. From the gait I could tell it was a man, but his long coat and wide-brimmed hat hid every feature of his identity. As he came closer I banged on the window to attract his attention. It worked, as he slowed his pace and moved closer to the car.

_Thank God_, I thought, all I had do was to get him to open the door from the outside and we would have a chance of making it to safety. The he raised his head so I could see his eyes under the brim of his hat. They were narrow, red and snake-like: an all too familiar creature who offered no hope to either of us. Everything clicked into place. This was his doing. He had fascinated poor Joe to do this.

What kind of evil monster would sacrifice his own child, his own creation? I hoped I would never find out. Appius tipped his hat to me in a sarcastic gesture and disappeared down the street. It was too late to save my vampire lover, who had disintegrated into a pile of dust. It was only the adrenaline of anger which had stopped me from collapsing. Now I felt the bile rise in my throat as despair washed over me, and I threw up over my own shoes.

"So should all the blood-sucking scum perish," Joe intoned, lowering the security screen now that it was no longer needed.

Acting on instinct I leant forward, gripped his head firmly and with a sharp twist, broke his neck. It was my first kill. John's blood had given me the strength and at the time it seemed a fitting response, although later I would feel a dreadful guilt. As my anger subsided I made a solemn vow; I would track down Appius Livius Ocella and I would send him to his final death, if it was the last thing I ever did.

Then I climbed over the seat, unlocked the door and ran down the road toward the office, stumbling as the tears blinded my eyes. Julian was waiting for me, pacing the floor. He knew that something must have gone wrong, even before I collapsed into his arms and stammered out my story. I told him the whole truth, even the part about killing Joe. He would have to decide what to do, I could no longer think straight

Julian carried me to his office, sat me down and made me a cup of tea. That combined with a glass of malt whisky that tasted of dirt served to calm me down. His quick brain came up with a convincing cover story, and he rang security to get to the car and clear up the mess.

Amy would be told that there had been an accident. She and her baby would be well compensated for the loss of a husband and father.

Nothing would compensate me, though. I'd lost the love of my life and I couldn't see how anyone could ever replace him.

-XoXoXo-

I could hardly bear to stay in the house that night. Everything reminded me of John. His cold, dry scent still clung to the furniture and the bedclothes. I found a shirt he'd discarded and slept in it every night, or to be more accurate tossed and turned, fighting off the nightmares.

At the same time, I didn't dare leave; for fear that Appius was out there waiting for me.

Eric's card was lying on the sideboard in a wooden bowl. I picked it up and turned it over in my fingers. I don't really know what I expected him to be able to do, but at least he would understand. Five or six times I started to dial the number, then hung up, unsure of what to say to him. With the time difference he would still be at rest, but he might have voicemail.

Finally I followed through. Sure enough, he had a message, and it was as brusque as you would expect from him. '_Eric Northman, speak after the tone_.'

I took a deep breath and launched in. 'Mr Northman, Eric, this is Sookie Stackhouse, from London. I need to talk to you, something has happened and I don't know who else to call.' I added my number and hung up. John had said he was rich so hopefully he wouldn't mind calling long distance.

I was still awake when he called back in the early hours. He heard out my story in silence.

"You must take great care," he said. "Appius will come after you too, I'm sure of that. You must only leave the house in daylight hours when he cannot touch you."

That was great, in the middle of December when there were only about eight hours of daylight, but I had to agree with him.

"I have some matters to attend to, but as soon as I can I will come to London to be with you."

Guilt and pleasure battled inside me at his words. Of course no-one could replace John, but my initial dislike of Eric had worn off the more time I had spent with him. I was certain that no human could really understand what I was going through, but maybe he could.

"Thank you," I whispered, knowing that he would be able to hear me.

"It will be my pleasure; together we will avenge my brother."

I would have to wait a few days but I was satisfied with that. To tell the truth it was the only thing that kept me going. In the run up to Christmas things were quieter in the office, so I got away with working shorter days so I could travel in daylight. Everyone thought I was a miserable cow for avoiding all the office parties and I was sorry that I couldn't explain why. Perhaps after the revelation I would be able to tell the people I cared about.

Eric called me every night, just to check that I was alright, he said. Although his calls were in the early hours I didn't mind. I couldn't sleep much anyway, and it was good to have someone to talk to who understood. He didn't seem to mind me talking about John and how much I missed him.

I was thinking about Eric that Saturday morning when I popped out to pick up a skinny latte and the newspaper. I never saw the car, or at least not until the last moment. Then I exchanged a quick glance with the driver. His eyes were blank, his face expressionless. He was an automaton going through the motions, another victim of vampire fascination.

"Appius!" it was my last conscious thought.

-XoXoXoXo-

"We must return her." Dimly I heard a woman's voice, soft and melodic.

"No it is not safe. She must leave this life and find another. We have need of her skills and she must be protected." A man this time, his voice deeper, and older, I thought dimly but equally musical.

"Do you believe I cannot protect my own god-daughter, Niall," that was the woman, sounding angry now.

"Oh do stop whining, Claudine," that was a third voice, a younger sounding man.

I have no idea where I was as this conversation took place around me. I couldn't feel my own body and the only thing I could see was a bright, white light. I had no sense of heat, cold or anything else external. I couldn't see the speakers, even though I could tell from their voices that they were very close.

"It is decided. I have taken precautions to protect my great-granddaughter. Thanks to my son and his love for human women there are several lives I could have given her. This one will end, but another will take her place."

"Where?" I heard the young man and woman ask together.

"Where there is someone strong enough to protect her."

After that, there was nothing.

_The end_

_Continued…in Louisiana_


End file.
